<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5702455996734855746</id><updated>2011-04-21T14:03:45.580-07:00</updated><title type='text'>it's my time to shine</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luanacutsss.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5702455996734855746/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luanacutsss.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Luana Cutsss</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08549496410671137980</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__olVJsDuaGQ/SXF6LLlitDI/AAAAAAAAAAw/gks66SmuBXw/S220/IMG_7953.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>19</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5702455996734855746.post-4544097026619319844</id><published>2009-02-25T11:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T11:16:35.252-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__olVJsDuaGQ/SaWYLTrESJI/AAAAAAAAADQ/EG2V7DvX25k/s1600-h/mara+a+minha+cara.jpg"&gt;Show da Faaaaaaaaaaaaaake!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__olVJsDuaGQ/SaWYLTrESJI/AAAAAAAAADQ/EG2V7DvX25k/s1600-h/mara+a+minha+cara.jpg"&gt;ASHUASHUHASUHUSAsa&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__olVJsDuaGQ/SaWYLTrESJI/AAAAAAAAADQ/EG2V7DvX25k/s1600-h/mara+a+minha+cara.jpg"&gt;puta merda, to horrivel na foto mas o que vale é o lugar.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__olVJsDuaGQ/SaWYLTrESJI/AAAAAAAAADQ/EG2V7DvX25k/s1600-h/mara+a+minha+cara.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 123px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__olVJsDuaGQ/SaWYLTrESJI/AAAAAAAAADQ/EG2V7DvX25k/s400/mara+a+minha+cara.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306815055952890002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que saudade dessas bichas x)))) Quero um show deles logo logo!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E...................................... SHOW DO SIMPLE PLAN TA CHEGAAAANDOOO! uhu, quem vai?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sem mais por hoje :D :**&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5702455996734855746-4544097026619319844?l=luanacutsss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luanacutsss.blogspot.com/feeds/4544097026619319844/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://luanacutsss.blogspot.com/2009/02/show-da-faaaaaaaaaaaaaake.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5702455996734855746/posts/default/4544097026619319844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5702455996734855746/posts/default/4544097026619319844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luanacutsss.blogspot.com/2009/02/show-da-faaaaaaaaaaaaaake.html' title=''/><author><name>Luana Cutsss</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08549496410671137980</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__olVJsDuaGQ/SXF6LLlitDI/AAAAAAAAAAw/gks66SmuBXw/S220/IMG_7953.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__olVJsDuaGQ/SaWYLTrESJI/AAAAAAAAADQ/EG2V7DvX25k/s72-c/mara+a+minha+cara.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5702455996734855746.post-2026126902709129191</id><published>2009-02-12T12:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T12:18:02.344-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a name="8030251871358228010"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lItKYcgrtHQ/SZSBhWswQZI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/E1siITgNOc4/s1600-h/ATgAAAAudN9GkTEQa7vZS7CsoX3k-8di7RJgWfeuHzOE5qYVdMEOJhKWGSiQ2Ure64Se9RPagh-HaORE1mqdsy-fkpzrAJtU9VBPqqPtrk9z7wotGos3SHBuJ6Ucgw.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lItKYcgrtHQ/SZSBhWswQZI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/E1siITgNOc4/s320/ATgAAAAudN9GkTEQa7vZS7CsoX3k-8di7RJgWfeuHzOE5qYVdMEOJhKWGSiQ2Ure64Se9RPagh-HaORE1mqdsy-fkpzrAJtU9VBPqqPtrk9z7wotGos3SHBuJ6Ucgw.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302005071350874514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's fortune: You can't plane the future by the past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HEHEHE, ta ajudando tanto isso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mano, que cansaço, hoje o dia foi de trabalho árduo sem parar .___.' dfkdpokffksdopkfçskdfpk&lt;br /&gt;É foda, preciso dormir ._.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E aindaaaa, quando chego em casa leio na comunidade:&lt;br /&gt;QUE SAUDADES DA EPOCA QUE ELES NAO ERAM ESTRELINHAS!!!&lt;br /&gt;(uma poser do c**&amp;amp;*¨¨%*_ falando sobre  o mcr)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mano, na boa, todo mundo ja sabe a minha opinião mas vou reforçar:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ELES SÃO MUSICOS E NÃO UMAS 'MISS SIMPATIAS'. ._.&lt;br /&gt;Se você não tá feliz com eles fazendo musica, vá ser fã da Claudia Leite, da Sandy... Elas com certeza vão ficar sorrindo pra todo mundo em volta deles mesmo que o mundo pareça desabar. Elas são feitas pra isso. Nada contra, mas são.&lt;br /&gt;Os caras tem problemas, nao surgiram de uma 'Disney' ou coisaradas, já levaram garrafadas, ja fizeram shows em situação precária e já passaram muita coisa. Eles não tem a obrigação de ficar sorrindo pra você apenas porque acha que 'VCS SALVARAM MINHA VIDA, VCS SAO MEUS IDOLOS, SORRIAM PRA MIM' funciona.&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't work anymore. Not anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, outra. Tá vendo aquela foto?&lt;br /&gt;É o Gerard. Sei que não é aqui no Brasil, mas vocês viram algo diferente?&lt;br /&gt;Sei que muita gente não fez isso porque não pode, mas pelo amor de Deus, os videos do aeroporto tão pedindo ajuda, ein?&lt;br /&gt;Podiam ter manerado MUITO nos berros.&lt;br /&gt;Aliás, acho que não precisariam manerar, porque eu no show dei aloca, mas então que não fique falando que são estrelinhas e nao querem nem saber dos fãs.&lt;br /&gt;Se vocês soubessem o que ele faria por cada um de vocês, com certeza não diriam a metade.&lt;br /&gt;Mas felizmente eles não precisam ficar sorrindo e se mostrando como adoráveis salvadores de vida. Não é isso que eles são.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;São uma banda. De musica. BANDA. MUSICOS. E não os 'Miss Simpatia''.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meu post tá feito.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5702455996734855746-2026126902709129191?l=luanacutsss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luanacutsss.blogspot.com/feeds/2026126902709129191/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://luanacutsss.blogspot.com/2009/02/todays-fortune-you-cant-plane-future-by.html#comment-form' title='1 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5702455996734855746/posts/default/2026126902709129191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5702455996734855746/posts/default/2026126902709129191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luanacutsss.blogspot.com/2009/02/todays-fortune-you-cant-plane-future-by.html' title=''/><author><name>Luana Cutsss</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08549496410671137980</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__olVJsDuaGQ/SXF6LLlitDI/AAAAAAAAAAw/gks66SmuBXw/S220/IMG_7953.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lItKYcgrtHQ/SZSBhWswQZI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/E1siITgNOc4/s72-c/ATgAAAAudN9GkTEQa7vZS7CsoX3k-8di7RJgWfeuHzOE5qYVdMEOJhKWGSiQ2Ure64Se9RPagh-HaORE1mqdsy-fkpzrAJtU9VBPqqPtrk9z7wotGos3SHBuJ6Ucgw.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5702455996734855746.post-7703896916297809772</id><published>2009-02-03T19:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T19:54:41.686-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__olVJsDuaGQ/SYkO6ArFvsI/AAAAAAAAADI/TJanOVp7xXI/s1600-h/P1000185.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 225px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__olVJsDuaGQ/SYkO6ArFvsI/AAAAAAAAADI/TJanOVp7xXI/s400/P1000185.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298782826354032322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I were a boy...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5702455996734855746-7703896916297809772?l=luanacutsss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luanacutsss.blogspot.com/feeds/7703896916297809772/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://luanacutsss.blogspot.com/2009/02/if-i-were-boy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5702455996734855746/posts/default/7703896916297809772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5702455996734855746/posts/default/7703896916297809772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luanacutsss.blogspot.com/2009/02/if-i-were-boy.html' title=''/><author><name>Luana Cutsss</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08549496410671137980</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__olVJsDuaGQ/SXF6LLlitDI/AAAAAAAAAAw/gks66SmuBXw/S220/IMG_7953.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__olVJsDuaGQ/SYkO6ArFvsI/AAAAAAAAADI/TJanOVp7xXI/s72-c/P1000185.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5702455996734855746.post-7819371891107669601</id><published>2009-02-01T18:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T18:48:47.311-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__olVJsDuaGQ/SYZe0aTVJHI/AAAAAAAAADA/jzHxDZDUHkg/s1600-h/DSC08397.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__olVJsDuaGQ/SYZe0aTVJHI/AAAAAAAAADA/jzHxDZDUHkg/s400/DSC08397.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298026266154574962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To lendo um livro tããããão bom agora. O poder infinito de sua mente, algo do tipo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Praticamente um lei da atração só que mais simplificado. Dou graças a deus por esse tipo de livro existir. Tantas coisas que a gente nem sabe que tem por ai que são todas nosso direito. (:&lt;br /&gt;E como eu digo ha dois anos... Eu sei o que eu quero e é isso que eu vou ter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enfim.&lt;br /&gt;Quero logo ter a minha passagem de ida para os Estados Unidos. Tipo, logo.&lt;br /&gt;Sei lá, as vezes penso que vou ficar confusa e perdida por lá, só que em outra mão eu penso em cada coisa que ta por la me esperando e eu aqui. ._.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Não sei direito como cuidar de um blog. Acho que não é exatamente pra isso que ele serve, mas... vamos lá.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, good news, people.&lt;br /&gt;Esse ano tô largando definitivamente o vôlei. Nem sei se já comentei, e isso no começo até que foi ruim pra mim. Mas sem chance da minha viagem dar certa ano que vem se eu ficar jogando e perdendo todo o tempo que eu teria que estar estudando lá.&lt;br /&gt;Foi bastante complicado ano passado e ano retrasado. Nenhuma contribuição, nada.&lt;br /&gt;Só espero esse ano que tá mal começando fazer o que eu realmente quero. Esporte era a minha vida. Não que deixou de ser, mas de alguma forma já não faz mais parte de mim.&lt;br /&gt;Quero também esse ano me dedicar bem ao meu trabalho :)&lt;br /&gt;E seja lá o que Deus quiser.&lt;br /&gt;Melhor, o que EU bem escolher. Não adianta jogar isso na mão de Deus, coitado. AUHSAUSHAUHASUHSAUHSA.&lt;br /&gt;Whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Outra coisa que espero muito pro ano que vem são os concertos.&lt;br /&gt;MÚSICA, CARA! Estados Unidos. *-*&lt;br /&gt;Posso citar facilmente as bandas que não me escapam ano que vem. HAHAHA!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TAKING BACK SUNDAY, Foo Fighters, The Color Fred, Angels and Airwaves, AFI, Hinder até mesmo (aprendi a gostar), Lost Prophets, e claro, The used e My Chemical Romance. &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O mais interessante é que falta 16 dias pra fazer um ano do show do MCR. (:&lt;br /&gt;A saudade já está baixando, graças a dios.&lt;br /&gt;Nada mal, depois de um ano as coisas tem que passar, a vida continua, novos shows vem e tudo se renova, né mesmo? *-*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adoro o poder que o ser humano tem de esquecer as coisas tão facilmente quando outras coisas boas acontecem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esse ano vamos ver se a banda realmente rola. Provavelmente o baterista já foi achado, mas eu ainda não tive tempo de saber quem é. Rola uns covers por ai. *-*&lt;br /&gt;E é isso, 2009 tá ai e muita coisa me espera, não posso demorar. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5702455996734855746-7819371891107669601?l=luanacutsss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luanacutsss.blogspot.com/feeds/7819371891107669601/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://luanacutsss.blogspot.com/2009/02/to-lendo-um-livro-taaaaao-bom-agora.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5702455996734855746/posts/default/7819371891107669601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5702455996734855746/posts/default/7819371891107669601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luanacutsss.blogspot.com/2009/02/to-lendo-um-livro-taaaaao-bom-agora.html' title=''/><author><name>Luana Cutsss</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08549496410671137980</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__olVJsDuaGQ/SXF6LLlitDI/AAAAAAAAAAw/gks66SmuBXw/S220/IMG_7953.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__olVJsDuaGQ/SYZe0aTVJHI/AAAAAAAAADA/jzHxDZDUHkg/s72-c/DSC08397.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5702455996734855746.post-4812910218126931941</id><published>2009-02-01T09:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T09:02:42.343-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;“If you would have fleshly life, human life, hard life which can move through&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;time and space, then fight for it. If you would have human philosophy then&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;struggle and make yourself wise, so that nothing can hurt you ever."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Tá tudo tão estranho.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A gente pensa que tá melhorando e as coisas só pioram, mesmo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5702455996734855746-4812910218126931941?l=luanacutsss.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://luanacutsss.blogspot.com/feeds/4812910218126931941/comments/default' title='Postar comentários'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://luanacutsss.blogspot.com/2009/02/if-you-would-have-fleshly-life-human.html#comment-form' title='0 Comentários'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5702455996734855746/posts/default/4812910218126931941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5702455996734855746/posts/default/4812910218126931941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://luanacutsss.blogspot.com/2009/02/if-you-would-have-fleshly-life-human.html' title=''/><author><name>Luana Cutsss</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08549496410671137980</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__olVJsDuaGQ/SXF6LLlitDI/AAAAAAAAAAw/gks66SmuBXw/S220/IMG_7953.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5702455996734855746.post-1519773126893041979</id><published>2009-02-01T08:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T08:58:59.684-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>New Tales of the Vampires&lt;br /&gt;By Anne Rice&lt;br /&gt;JULIAN OF NORWICH&lt;br /&gt;Revelations of Divine Love&lt;br /&gt;I&lt;br /&gt;Not twenty minutes has passed since you left me here in the cafe, since I said&lt;br /&gt;No to your request, that I would never write out for you the story of my mortal&lt;br /&gt;life, how I became a vampire – how I came upon Marius only years after he had&lt;br /&gt;lost his human life.&lt;br /&gt;Now here I am with your notebook open, using one of the sharp pointed eternal&lt;br /&gt;ink pens you left me, delighted at the sensuous press of the black ink into the&lt;br /&gt;expensive and flawless white paper.&lt;br /&gt;Naturally, David, you would leave me something elegant, an inviting page. This&lt;br /&gt;notebook bound in dark varnished leather, is it not, tooled with a design of&lt;br /&gt;rich roses, thornless, yet leafy, a design that means only Design in the final&lt;br /&gt;analysis but bespeaks an authority. What is written beneath this heavy and&lt;br /&gt;handsome book cover will count, sayeth this cover.&lt;br /&gt;The thick pages are ruled in light blue – you are practical, so thoughtful, and&lt;br /&gt;you probably know I almost never put pen to paper to write anything at all.&lt;br /&gt;Even the sound of the pen has its allure, the sharp&lt;br /&gt;scratch rather like the finest quills in ancient Rome when I would put them to&lt;br /&gt;parchment to write my letters to my Father, when I would write in a diary my own&lt;br /&gt;laments... ah, that sound. The only thing missing here is the smell of ink, but&lt;br /&gt;we have the fine plastic pen which will not run out for volumes, making as fine&lt;br /&gt;and deep a black mark as I choose to make.&lt;br /&gt;I am thinking about your request in writing. You see you will get something from&lt;br /&gt;me. I find myself yielding to it, almost as one of our human victims yields to&lt;br /&gt;us, discovering perhaps as the rain continues to fall outside, as the cafe&lt;br /&gt;continues with its noisy chatter, to think that this might not be the agony I&lt;br /&gt;presumed – reaching back over the two thousand years – but almost a pleasure,&lt;br /&gt;like the act of drinking blood itself.&lt;br /&gt;I reach now for a victim who is not easy for me to overcome: my own past.&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps this victim will flee from me with a speed that equals my own. Whatever,&lt;br /&gt;I seek now a victim that I have never faced. And there is the thrill of the hunt&lt;br /&gt;in it, what the modern world calls investigation.&lt;br /&gt;Why else would I see those times so vividly now? You had no magic potion to give&lt;br /&gt;me to loosen my thoughts. There is but one potion for us and it is blood.&lt;br /&gt;You said at one point as we walked towards the cafe, “You will remember&lt;br /&gt;everything."&lt;br /&gt;You, who are so young amongst us yet were so old as a mortal, and such a scholar&lt;br /&gt;as a mortal. Perhaps it&lt;br /&gt;is natural that you so boldly attempt to collect our stories.&lt;br /&gt;But why seek to explain here such curiosity as yours, such bravery in face of&lt;br /&gt;blood-drenched truth?&lt;br /&gt;How could you have kindled in me this longing to go back, two thousand years,&lt;br /&gt;almost exactly – to tell of my mortal days on Earth in Rome, and how I joined&lt;br /&gt;Marius, and what little chance he had against Fate.&lt;br /&gt;How could origins so deeply buried and so long denied suddenly beckon to me. A&lt;br /&gt;door snaps open. A light shines. Come in.&lt;br /&gt;I sit back now in the cafe.&lt;br /&gt;I write, but I pause and look around me at the people of this Paris cafe. I see&lt;br /&gt;the drab unisex fabrics of this age, the fresh American girl in her olive green&lt;br /&gt;military clothes, all of her possessions slung over her shoulder in a backpack;&lt;br /&gt;I see the old Frenchman who has come here for decades merely to look at the bare&lt;br /&gt;legs and arms of the young, to feed on the gestures as if he were a vampire, to&lt;br /&gt;wait for some exotic jewel of a moment when a woman sits back laughing,&lt;br /&gt;cigarette in hand, and the doth of her synthetic blouse becomes tight over her&lt;br /&gt;breasts and there the nipples are visible.&lt;br /&gt;Ah, old man. He is gray-haired and wears an expensive coat. He is no menace to&lt;br /&gt;anyone. He lives entirely in vision. Tonight he will go back to a modest but&lt;br /&gt;elegant apartment which he has maintained since the last Great World War, and he&lt;br /&gt;will watch films of the young beauty Brigitte Bardot. He lives in his eyes. He&lt;br /&gt;has not touched a woman in ten years.&lt;br /&gt;I don’t drift, David. I drop anchor here. For I will not have my story pour&lt;br /&gt;forth as from a drunken oracle.&lt;br /&gt;I see these mortals in a more attentive light. They are so fresh, so exotic and&lt;br /&gt;yet so luscious to me, these mortals; they look like tropical birds must have&lt;br /&gt;looked when I was a child; so full of fluttering, rebellious life, I wanted to&lt;br /&gt;clutch them to have it, to make their wings flap in my hands, to capture flight&lt;br /&gt;and own it and partake of it. Ah, that terrible moment in childhood when one&lt;br /&gt;accidentally crushes the life from a bright-red bird.&lt;br /&gt;Yet they are sinister in their darker vestments, some of these mortals: the&lt;br /&gt;inevitable cocaine dealer – and they are everywhere, our finest prey – who waits&lt;br /&gt;for his contact in the far corner, his long leather coat styled by a noted&lt;br /&gt;Italian designer, his hair shaved dose on the side and left bushy on the top to&lt;br /&gt;make him look distinctive, which it does, though there is no need when one&lt;br /&gt;considers his huge black eyes, and the hardness of what nature intended to be a&lt;br /&gt;generous mouth. He makes those quick impatient gestures with his cigarette&lt;br /&gt;lighter on the small marble table, the mark of the addicted; he twists, he&lt;br /&gt;turns, he cannot be comfortable. He doesn’t know that he will never be&lt;br /&gt;comfortable in life again. He wants to leave to snort the cocaine for which he&lt;br /&gt;burns and yet he must wait for the contact. His shoes are too shiny, and his&lt;br /&gt;long thin hands will never grow old.&lt;br /&gt;I think he will die tonight, this man. I feel a slow gathering desire to kill&lt;br /&gt;him myself. He has fed so much poison to so many. Tracking him, wrapping him in&lt;br /&gt;my arms, I would not even have to wreathe him with visions. I would let him know&lt;br /&gt;that death has come in the form of a woman too white to be human, too smoothed&lt;br /&gt;by the centuries to be anything but a statue come to life. But those for whom he&lt;br /&gt;waits plot to kill him. And why should I intervene?&lt;br /&gt;What do I look like to these people? A woman with long wavy dean brown hair that&lt;br /&gt;covers me much like a nun’s mantle, a face so white it appears cosmetically&lt;br /&gt;created, and eyes, abnormally brilliant, even from behind golden glasses.&lt;br /&gt;Ah, we have a lot to be grateful for in the many styles of eyeglasses in this&lt;br /&gt;age – for if I were to take these off, I should have to keep my head bowed, not&lt;br /&gt;to startle people with the mere play of yellow and brown and gold in my eyes,&lt;br /&gt;that have grown ever more jewel-like over the centuries, so that I seem a blind&lt;br /&gt;woman set with topaz for her pupils, or rather carefully formed orbs of topaz,&lt;br /&gt;sapphire, even aquamarine.&lt;br /&gt;Look, I have filled so many pages, and all I am saying is Yes, I will tell you&lt;br /&gt;how it began for me.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I will tell you the story of my mortal life in ancient Rome, how I came to&lt;br /&gt;love Marius and how we came to be together and then to part.&lt;br /&gt;What a transformation in me, this resolution.&lt;br /&gt;How powerful I feel as I hold this pen, and how eager to put us in sharp and&lt;br /&gt;dear perspective before I begin fulfilling your request.&lt;br /&gt;This is Paris, in a time of peace. There is rain. High regal gray buildings with&lt;br /&gt;their double windows and iron balconies line this boulevard. Loud, tiny,&lt;br /&gt;dangerous automobiles race in the streets. Cafes, such as this, are overflowing&lt;br /&gt;with international tourists. Ancient churches are crowded here by tenements,&lt;br /&gt;palaces turned to museums, in whose rooms I linger for hours gazing at objects&lt;br /&gt;from Egypt or Sumer which are even older than me. Roman architecture is&lt;br /&gt;everywhere, absolute replicas of Temples of my time now serve as banks. The&lt;br /&gt;words of my native Latin suffuse the English language. Ovid, my beloved Ovid,&lt;br /&gt;the poet who predicted his poetry would outlast the Roman Empire, has been&lt;br /&gt;proved true.&lt;br /&gt;Walk into any bookstore and you find him in neat, small paperbacks, designed to&lt;br /&gt;appeal to students.&lt;br /&gt;Roman influence seeds itself, sprouting mighty oaks right through the modern&lt;br /&gt;forest of computers, digital disks, microviruses and space satellites.&lt;br /&gt;It is easy here – as always – to find an embraceable evil, a despair worth&lt;br /&gt;tender fulfillment.&lt;br /&gt;And with me there must always be some love of the victim, some mercy, some&lt;br /&gt;self-delusion that the death I bring does not mar the great shroud of&lt;br /&gt;inevitability, woven of trees and earth and stars, and human events, which&lt;br /&gt;hovers forever around us ready to close on all that is created, all that we&lt;br /&gt;know.&lt;br /&gt;Last night, when you found me, how did it seem to you? I was alone on the bridge&lt;br /&gt;over the Seine, walking in the last dangerous darkness before dawn.&lt;br /&gt;You saw me before I knew you were there. My hood was down and I let my eyes in&lt;br /&gt;the dim light of the bridge have their little moment of glory. My victim stood&lt;br /&gt;at the railing, no more than a child, but bruised and robbed by a hundred men.&lt;br /&gt;She wanted to die in the water. I don’t know if the Seine is deep enough for one&lt;br /&gt;to drown there. So near the Ile St.Louis. So near Notre Dame. Perhaps it is, if&lt;br /&gt;one can resist a last struggle for life.&lt;br /&gt;But I felt this victim’s soul like ashes, as though her spirit had been cremated&lt;br /&gt;and only the body remained, a worn, disease-ridden shell. I put my arm around&lt;br /&gt;her, and when I saw the fear in her small black eyes, when I saw the question&lt;br /&gt;coming, I wreathed her with images. The soot that covered my skin was not enough&lt;br /&gt;to keep me from looking like the Virgin Mary, and she sank into hymns and&lt;br /&gt;devotion, she even saw my veils in the colors she had known in churches of&lt;br /&gt;childhood, as she yielded to me, and I – knowing that I needn’t drink, but&lt;br /&gt;thirsting for her, thirsting for the anguish she could give forth in her final&lt;br /&gt;moment, thirsting for the tasty red blood that would fill my mouth and make me&lt;br /&gt;feel human for one instant in my very monstrosity – I gave in to her visions,&lt;br /&gt;bent her neck, ran my fingers over her sore tender skin, and then it was, when I&lt;br /&gt;sank my teeth into her, when I drank from her – it was then that I knew you were&lt;br /&gt;there. You watched.&lt;br /&gt;I knew it, and I felt it, and I saw the image of us in your eye, distractingly,&lt;br /&gt;as the pleasure nevertheless flushed through me, making me believe I was alive,&lt;br /&gt;somehow connected to fields of clover or trees with roots deeper in the earth&lt;br /&gt;than the branches they raise to the welkin above.&lt;br /&gt;At first I hated you. You saw me as I feasted. You saw me as I gave in. You knew&lt;br /&gt;nothing of my months of starvation, restraint, wandering. You saw only the&lt;br /&gt;sudden release of my unclean desire to suck her very soul from her, to make her&lt;br /&gt;heart rise in the flesh inside her, to drag from her veins every precious&lt;br /&gt;particle of her that still wanted to survive.&lt;br /&gt;And she did want to survive. Wrapped in saints, and dreaming suddenly of the&lt;br /&gt;breasts that nursed her, her young body fought, pumping and pumping against me,&lt;br /&gt;she so soft, and my own form hard as a statue, my milkless nipples enshrined in&lt;br /&gt;marble, no comfort. Let her see her mother, dead, gone and now waiting. Let me&lt;br /&gt;glimpse through her dying eyes the light through which she sped towards this&lt;br /&gt;certain salvation.&lt;br /&gt;Then I forgot about you. I would not be robbed. I slowed the drinking, I let her&lt;br /&gt;sigh, I let her lungs fill with the cold river air, her mother drawing closer&lt;br /&gt;and closer so that death now was as safe for her as the womb. I took every drop&lt;br /&gt;from her that she could give.&lt;br /&gt;She hung dead against me, as one I'd rescued, one I would help from the bridge,&lt;br /&gt;some weakened, sickened, drunken girl. I slid my hand into her body, breaking&lt;br /&gt;the flesh so easily even with these delicate fingers, and I dosed my fingers&lt;br /&gt;around her heart and brought it to my lips and sucked it, my head tucked down by&lt;br /&gt;her face, sucked the heart like fruit, until no blood was left in any fiber or&lt;br /&gt;chamber, and then slowly – perhaps for your benefit – I lifted her and let her&lt;br /&gt;fall down into the water she had so desired.&lt;br /&gt;Now there would be no struggle as her lungs filled with the river. Now there&lt;br /&gt;would be no last desperate thrashing. I fed from the heart one last time, to&lt;br /&gt;take even the color of blood out of it, and then sent it after her – crushed&lt;br /&gt;grapes – poor child, child of a hundred men.&lt;br /&gt;Then I faced you, let you know that I knew you watched from the quay. I think I&lt;br /&gt;tried to frighten you. In rage I let you know how weak you were, that all the&lt;br /&gt;blood given to you by Lestat would make you no match should I choose to&lt;br /&gt;dismember you, pitch a fatal heat into you and immolate you, or only punish you&lt;br /&gt;with penetrating scar – simply for having spied upon me.&lt;br /&gt;Actually I have never done such a thing to a younger one. I feel sorry for them&lt;br /&gt;when they see us, the ancient ones, and quake in terror. But I should, by all&lt;br /&gt;the knowledge of myself I possess, have retreated so quickly that you could riot&lt;br /&gt;follow me in the night.&lt;br /&gt;Something in your demeanor charmed me, the manner in which you approached me on&lt;br /&gt;the bridge, your young Anglo-Indian brown-skinned body gifted by your true&lt;br /&gt;mortal age with such seductive grace. Your very posture seemed to ask of me,&lt;br /&gt;without humiliation:&lt;br /&gt;“Pandora, may we speak?”&lt;br /&gt;My mind wandered. Perhaps you knew it. I don’t remember whether I shut you out&lt;br /&gt;of my thoughts, and I know that your telepathic abilities are not really very&lt;br /&gt;strong. My mind wandered suddenly, perhaps of itself, perhaps at your prodding.&lt;br /&gt;I thought of all the things I could tell you, which were so different from the&lt;br /&gt;tales of Lestat, and those of Marius through Lestat, and I wanted to warn you,&lt;br /&gt;warn you of the ancient vampires of the Far East who would kill you if you went&lt;br /&gt;into their territory, simply because you were there.&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to make certain you understood what we all had to accept – the Fount of&lt;br /&gt;our immortal vampiric hunger did reside in two beings – Mekare and Maharet – so&lt;br /&gt;ancient they are now both horrible to look upon, more than beautiful. And if&lt;br /&gt;they destroy themselves we will all die with them.&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to tell you of others who have never known us as a tribe or known our&lt;br /&gt;history, who survived the terrible fire brought down on her children by our&lt;br /&gt;Mother Akasha. I wanted to tell you that there were things walking the Earth&lt;br /&gt;that look like us but are not of our breed any more than they are human. And I&lt;br /&gt;wanted suddenly to take you under my wing.&lt;br /&gt;It must have been your prodding. You stood there, the English gentleman, wearing&lt;br /&gt;your decorum more lightly and naturally than any man I’d ever seen. I marveled&lt;br /&gt;at your fine clothes that you’d indulged yourself in a light black cloak of&lt;br /&gt;worsted wool,&lt;br /&gt;that you had even given yourself the luxury of a gleaming red silk scarf – so&lt;br /&gt;unlike you when you&lt;br /&gt;were newly made.&lt;br /&gt;Understand, I was not aware the night that Lestat transformed you into a&lt;br /&gt;vampire. I didn’t feel that moment.&lt;br /&gt;All the preternatural world shimmered weeks earlier, however, with the knowledge&lt;br /&gt;that a mortal&lt;br /&gt;had jumped into the body of another mortal; we know these things, as if the&lt;br /&gt;stars tell us. One preter&lt;br /&gt;natural mind picks up the ripples of this sharp cut in the fabric of the&lt;br /&gt;ordinary, then another mind receives&lt;br /&gt;the image, and on and on it goes.&lt;br /&gt;David Talbot, the name we all knew from the venerable order of psychic&lt;br /&gt;detectives, the Talamasca, had managed to move his entire soul and etheric body&lt;br /&gt;– into that of another man. That body itself was in the possession of a body&lt;br /&gt;thief whom you forced from it. And once anchored in the young - body, you, with&lt;br /&gt;all your scruples and values, all your knowledge of seventy-four years, remained&lt;br /&gt;an chored in the young cells.&lt;br /&gt;And so it was David the Reborn, David with the high-gloss India beauty, and raw&lt;br /&gt;well-nourished strength of British lineage, that Lestat had made into a vampire,&lt;br /&gt;bringing over both body and soul, compounding miracle with the Dark Trick,&lt;br /&gt;achieving once more a sin that should stun his contemporaries and his elders.&lt;br /&gt;And this, this was done to you by your best friend!&lt;br /&gt;Welcome to the darkness, David. Welcome to the domain of Shakespeare’s&lt;br /&gt;"inconstant moon.”&lt;br /&gt;Bravely you came up the bridge towards me.&lt;br /&gt;"Forgive me, Pandora,” you said so quietly. Flawless British upper-class accent,&lt;br /&gt;and the usual beguiling British rhythm that is so seductive it seems to say that&lt;br /&gt;“we will all save the world."&lt;br /&gt;You kept a polite distance between us, as if I were a virgin girl of the last&lt;br /&gt;century, and you didn’t want to alarm me and my tender sensibilities. I smiled.&lt;br /&gt;I indulged myself then. I took your full measure, this fledgling that Lestat –&lt;br /&gt;against Marius’s injunction – had dared to make. I saw the components of you as&lt;br /&gt;a man: an immense human soul, fearless, yet half in love with despair, and a&lt;br /&gt;body which Lestat had almost injured himself to render powerful. He had given&lt;br /&gt;you more blood than he could easily give in your transformation. He had tried to&lt;br /&gt;give you his courage, his cleverness, his cunning; he had tried to transport an&lt;br /&gt;armory for you through the blood.&lt;br /&gt;He had done well. Your strength was complex and obvious. Our Queen Mother&lt;br /&gt;Akasha’s blood was mixed with that of Lestat. Marius, my ancient lover, had&lt;br /&gt;given him blood as well. Lestat, ah, now what do they say, they say that he may&lt;br /&gt;even have drunk the blood of the Christ.&lt;br /&gt;It was this first issue I took up with you, my curiosity overwhelming me, for to&lt;br /&gt;scan the world for knowledge is often to rake in such tragedy that I abhor it.&lt;br /&gt;"Tell me the truth of it," I said. "This story Memnoch the Devil. Lestat claimed&lt;br /&gt;he went to Heaven and to Hell. He brought back a veil from St. Veronica. The&lt;br /&gt;face of Christ was on it! It converted thousands to Christianity, it cured&lt;br /&gt;alienation and succored bitterness. It drove other Children of Darkness to&lt;br /&gt;:throw up their arms to the deadly morning light, as if the sun were in fact the&lt;br /&gt;fire of God."&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, it's all happened, as I described it," you said, lowering your head with a&lt;br /&gt;polite but unexaggerated modesty. “And you know a few... of us perished in this&lt;br /&gt;fervor, whilst newspapers and scientists collected our ashes for examination.”&lt;br /&gt;I marveled at your calm attitude. A Twentieth-Century sensibility. A mind&lt;br /&gt;dominated by an incalculable wealth of information, and quick of tongue with an&lt;br /&gt;intellect devoted to swiftness, synthesis, probabilities, and all this against&lt;br /&gt;the backdrop of horrid experiences, wars, massacres, the worst perhaps the world&lt;br /&gt;has ever seen.&lt;br /&gt;“It all happened," you said. “And I did meet with Mekare and Maharet, the&lt;br /&gt;ancient ones, and you needn’t fear for me that I don't know how fragile is the&lt;br /&gt;root. It was kind of you to think so protectively of me."&lt;br /&gt;I was quietly charmed.&lt;br /&gt;“What did you think of this Holy Veil yourself?" I asked.&lt;br /&gt;"Our Lady of Fatima," you said softly. “The Shroud of Turin, a cripple rising&lt;br /&gt;from the Miraculous Waters of Lourdes! What a consolation it must be to accept&lt;br /&gt;such a thing so easily."&lt;br /&gt;“And you did not?”&lt;br /&gt;You shook your head. “And neither did Lestat, really. It was the mortal girl,&lt;br /&gt;Dora, snatching the Veil from him, who took it out into the world. But it was a&lt;br /&gt;most singular and meticulously made thing, I’ll tell you that, more worthy of&lt;br /&gt;the word 'relic' perhaps than any other I’ve ever seen.”&lt;br /&gt;You sounded dejected suddenly.&lt;br /&gt;"Some immense intent went into its making," you said.&lt;br /&gt;“And the vampire Armand, the delicate boylike Armand, he believed it?” I asked.&lt;br /&gt;“Armand looked at it and saw the face of Christ,” I said, seeking your&lt;br /&gt;confirmation.&lt;br /&gt;"Enough to die for it," you said solemnly. "Enough to open his arms to the&lt;br /&gt;morning sun.”&lt;br /&gt;You looked away, and you closed your eyes. This was a simple unadorned plea to&lt;br /&gt;me not to make you speak of Armand and how he had gone into the morning fire.&lt;br /&gt;I gave a sigh – surprised and gently fascinated to find you so articulate,&lt;br /&gt;skeptical, yet so sharply and frankly connected to the others.&lt;br /&gt;You said in a shaken voice, "Armand." And still looking away from me. “What a&lt;br /&gt;Requiem. And does he know now if Memnoch was real, if God Incarnate who tempted&lt;br /&gt;Lestat was in fact the Son of the God Almighty? Does anyone'?"&lt;br /&gt;I was taken with your earnestness, your passion. You were not jaded or cynical.&lt;br /&gt;There was an immediacy to your feelings for these happenings, these creatures,&lt;br /&gt;these questions you posed,&lt;br /&gt;"They locked up the Veil, you know,” you said. "It’s in the Vatican. There were&lt;br /&gt;two weeks of frenzy on Fifth Avenue in St. Patrick’s Cathedral in which people&lt;br /&gt;came to look into the eyes of The Lord, and then they had it, gone, taken to&lt;br /&gt;their vaults. I doubt there is a nation on the Earth with the power to gain even&lt;br /&gt;a glimpse of it now.”&lt;br /&gt;“And Lestat,” I said. "Where is he now?"&lt;br /&gt;“Paralyzed, silent,” you said. “Lestat lies on the floor of a chapel in New&lt;br /&gt;Orleans. He doesn't move. He says nothing. His Mother has come to him. You knew&lt;br /&gt;her, Gabrielle, he made a vampire of her.”&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, I remember her.”&lt;br /&gt;"Even she draws no response from him. Whatever he saw, in his journey to Heaven&lt;br /&gt;and Hell, he doesn’t know the truth of it one way or the other – he tried to&lt;br /&gt;tell this to Dora! And eventually, after I’d written down the whole story for&lt;br /&gt;him, he passed within a few nights into this state.&lt;br /&gt;“His eyes are fixed and his body pliant. They made a curious Pietá, he and&lt;br /&gt;Gabrielle, in this abandoned convent and its chapel. His mind is dosed, or worse&lt;br /&gt;– it's empty."&lt;br /&gt;I found I liked very much your manner of speaking. In fact, I was taken off&lt;br /&gt;guard.&lt;br /&gt;“I left Lestat because he was beyond my help and my reach,” you said. "And I&lt;br /&gt;must know if there are old ones who want to put an end to me; I must make my&lt;br /&gt;pilgrimages and my progresses to know the dangers of this world to which I’ve&lt;br /&gt;been admitted."&lt;br /&gt;"You’re so forthright. You have no cunning.”&lt;br /&gt;“On the contrary, I conceal my keenest assets from you.” You gave me a slow,&lt;br /&gt;polite smile. “Your beauty rather confuses me. Are you used to this?”&lt;br /&gt;“Quite,” I said. “And weary of it. Come beyond it. Let me just warn, there are&lt;br /&gt;old ones, ones no one knows or can explain. It’s rumored you’ve been with&lt;br /&gt;Maharet and Mekare, who are now the E1dest and the Fount from which we all&lt;br /&gt;spring. Obviously they've drawn back from us, from all the world, into some&lt;br /&gt;secret place, and have no taste for authority.”&lt;br /&gt;“You're so very correct,” you said, “and my audience with them was beautiful but&lt;br /&gt;brief. They don't want to rule over anyone, nor will Maharet, as long as the&lt;br /&gt;history of the world and her own physical descendants are in it – her own&lt;br /&gt;thousands of human descendants from a time so ancient there is no date for it –&lt;br /&gt;Maharet will never destroy herself and her sister, thereby destroying all of&lt;br /&gt;us.”&lt;br /&gt;“Yes,” I said, “in that she believes, the Great Family, the generations she has&lt;br /&gt;traced for thousands of years. I saw her when we all gathered. She doesn’t see&lt;br /&gt;us as evil – you, or me, or Lestat – she thinks that we’re natural, rather like&lt;br /&gt;volcanoes or fires that rage through forests, or bolts of lightning that strike&lt;br /&gt;a man dead.”&lt;br /&gt;“Precisely," you said. “There is no Queen of the Damned now. I fear only one&lt;br /&gt;other immortal, and that’s your lover, Marius. Because it was Marius who laid&lt;br /&gt;down the strict rule before he left the others that no more blood drinkers could&lt;br /&gt;be made. I’m baseborn in the mind of Marius. That is, were he an Englishman,&lt;br /&gt;those would be his words.”&lt;br /&gt;I shook my head. "I can’t believe he would harm you. Hasn't he come to Lestat'?&lt;br /&gt;Did he not come to see the Veil with his own eyes?”&lt;br /&gt;You said No to both questions.&lt;br /&gt;“Heed this advice: whenever you sense his presence, talk to him. Talk to him as&lt;br /&gt;you have to me. Begin a conversation which he won't have the confidence to bring&lt;br /&gt;to a dose."&lt;br /&gt;You smiled again. “That’s such a clever way of putting it,” you said.&lt;br /&gt;“But I don’t think you have to fear him. If he wanted you gone off the Earth,&lt;br /&gt;you’d be gone. What we have to fear is the same things humans fear – that there&lt;br /&gt;are others of our same species, of varying power and belief, and we are never&lt;br /&gt;entirely sure where they are or what they do. That's my advice to you.”&lt;br /&gt;"You are so kind to take your time with me,” you said.&lt;br /&gt;I could have wept. “On the contrary. You don’t know the silence and solitude in&lt;br /&gt;which I wander, and pray you never know it, and here you’ve given me heat&lt;br /&gt;without death, you’ve given me nourishment without blood. I’m glad you’ve come.”&lt;br /&gt;I saw you look up at the sky, the habit of the young ones.&lt;br /&gt;“I know, we have to part now."&lt;br /&gt;You turned to me suddenly. “Meet me tomorrow night," you said imploringly. "Let&lt;br /&gt;this exchange continue! I’ll come to you in the cafe where you sit every night&lt;br /&gt;musing. I'll find you. Let us talk to each other.”&lt;br /&gt;“So you’ve seen me there.”&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, often,” you said. “Yes." You looked away again. I saw it was to conceal&lt;br /&gt;feeling. Then your dark eyes turned back to me.&lt;br /&gt;"Pandora, we have the world, don’t we'?" you whispered.&lt;br /&gt;"I don’t know, David. But I’ll meet you tomorrow night. Why haven’t you come to&lt;br /&gt;me there? Where it was warm and lighted?"&lt;br /&gt;"It seemed a far more outrageous intrusion, to move in on you in the sanctified&lt;br /&gt;privacy of a crowded cafe. People go to such places to be alone, don’t they?&lt;br /&gt;This seemed somehow more proper. And I did not mean to be the voyeur. Like many&lt;br /&gt;fledglings, I have to feed every night. It was an accident that we saw each&lt;br /&gt;other at that moment.”&lt;br /&gt;“That is charming, David,” I said. “It is a long time since anyone has charmed&lt;br /&gt;me. I’ll meet you there... tomorrow night.”&lt;br /&gt;And then a wickedness possessed me. I came towards you and embraced you, knowing&lt;br /&gt;that the hardness and coldness of my ancient body would strike the deepest chord&lt;br /&gt;of terror in you, newborn as you were, passing so easily for mortal.&lt;br /&gt;But you didn’t draw back. And when I kissed your cheek, you kissed mine.&lt;br /&gt;I wonder now, as I sit here in the cafe, writing... trying to give you more with&lt;br /&gt;these words perhaps than you ask for... what I would have done had you not&lt;br /&gt;kissed me, had you shrunk back with the fear that is so common in the young.&lt;br /&gt;David, you are indeed a puzzle.&lt;br /&gt;You see that I have begun to chronicle not my life here, but what has passed&lt;br /&gt;these two nights between you and me.&lt;br /&gt;Allow this, David. Allow that I speak of you and me, and then perhaps I can&lt;br /&gt;retrieve my lost life.&lt;br /&gt;When you came into the cafe tonight, I thought nothing much about the notebooks.&lt;br /&gt;You had two. They were thick.&lt;br /&gt;The leather of the notebooks smelled good and old, and when you set them down on&lt;br /&gt;the table, only then did I detect a glimmer from your disciplined and restrained&lt;br /&gt;mind that they had to do with me.&lt;br /&gt;I had chosen this table in the crowded center of the room, as though I wanted to&lt;br /&gt;be in the middle of the whirlpool of mortal scent and activity. You seemed&lt;br /&gt;pleased, unafraid, utterly at home.&lt;br /&gt;You wore another stunning suit of modern cut with a full cape of worsted wool,&lt;br /&gt;very tasteful, yet Old World, and with your golden skin and radiant eyes, you&lt;br /&gt;turned the head of every woman in the place and you turned the heads of some of&lt;br /&gt;the men.&lt;br /&gt;You smiled. I must have seemed a snail to you beneath my cloak and hood, gold&lt;br /&gt;glasses covering well over half my face, and a trace of commercial lipstick on&lt;br /&gt;my lips, a soft purple pink that had made me think of bruises. It had seemed&lt;br /&gt;very enticing in the mirror at the store, and I liked that my mouth was&lt;br /&gt;something I didn’t have to hide, My lips are now almost colorless. With this&lt;br /&gt;lipstick I could smile.&lt;br /&gt;I wore these gloves of mine, black lace, with their sheared-off tips so that my&lt;br /&gt;fingers can feel, and I had sooted my nails so they would not sparkle like&lt;br /&gt;crystal in the cafe. And I reached out my hand to you and you kissed it.&lt;br /&gt;There was your same boldness and decorum. And then the warmest smile from you, a&lt;br /&gt;smile in which l think your former physiology must have dominated because you&lt;br /&gt;looked far too wise for one so young and strong of build. I marveled at the&lt;br /&gt;perfect picture you had made of yourself.&lt;br /&gt;“You don’t know what a joy it is to me," you said, "that you've come, that&lt;br /&gt;you’ve let me join you here at this table."&lt;br /&gt;"You have made me want this,” I said, raising my hands, and seeing that your&lt;br /&gt;eyes were dazzled by my crystalline fingernails, in spite of the soot.&lt;br /&gt;I reached towards you, expecting you to pull back, but you entrusted to my cold&lt;br /&gt;white fingers your warm dark hand.&lt;br /&gt;"You find in me a living being?" I asked you.&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, yes, most definitely, most radiantly and perfectly a living being.”&lt;br /&gt;We ordered our coffee, as mortals expect us to do, deriving more pleasure from&lt;br /&gt;the heat and aroma than they could ever imagine, even stirring our little cups&lt;br /&gt;with our spoons. I had before me a red dessert. The dessert is still here of&lt;br /&gt;course. I ordered it simply because it was red – strawberries covered in syrup –&lt;br /&gt;with a strong sweet smell that bees would like.&lt;br /&gt;I smiled at your blandishments. I liked them.&lt;br /&gt;Playfully, I mocked them. I let my hood slip down and I shook out my hair so&lt;br /&gt;that its fullness and dark brown color could shimmer in the light.&lt;br /&gt;Of course it's no signal to mortals, as is Marius’s blond hair or that of&lt;br /&gt;Lestat. But I love my own hair, I love the veil of it when it is down over my&lt;br /&gt;shoulders, and I loved what I saw in your eyes.&lt;br /&gt;"Somewhere deep inside me there is a woman,” I said.&lt;br /&gt;To write it now – in this notebook as I sit here alone – it gives architecture&lt;br /&gt;to a trivial moment, and seems so dire a confession.&lt;br /&gt;David, the more I write, the more the concept of narrative excites me, the more&lt;br /&gt;I believe in the weight of a coherence which is possible on the page though not&lt;br /&gt;in life.&lt;br /&gt;But again, I didn’t know I meant to pick up this pen of yours at all. We were&lt;br /&gt;talking:&lt;br /&gt;“Pandora, if anyone does not know you’re a woman, then he is a fool,” you said.&lt;br /&gt;“How angry Marius would be with me for being pleased by that," I said. “Oh, no.&lt;br /&gt;Rather he would seize it as a strong point in favor of his position. I left him,&lt;br /&gt;left him without a word, the last time we were together – that was before Lestat&lt;br /&gt;went on his little escapade of running around in a human body, and long before&lt;br /&gt;he encountered Memnoch the Devil – I left Marius, and suddenly I wish I could&lt;br /&gt;reach him! I wish I could talk with him as you and I are talking now.”&lt;br /&gt;You looked so troubled for me, and with reason. On some level, you must have&lt;br /&gt;known that I had not evinced this much enthusiasm over anything in many a dreary&lt;br /&gt;year.&lt;br /&gt;“Would you write your story for me, Pandora'?” you asked suddenly.&lt;br /&gt;I was totally surprised.&lt;br /&gt;“Write it in these notebooks?” you pressed. "Write about the time when you were&lt;br /&gt;alive, the time when you and Marius came together, write what you will of&lt;br /&gt;Marius. But it’s your story that I most want.”&lt;br /&gt;I was stunned.&lt;br /&gt;“Why in the world would you want this of me?”&lt;br /&gt;You didn’t answer.&lt;br /&gt;“David, surely you've not returned to that order of human beings, the Talamasca,&lt;br /&gt;they know too much –”&lt;br /&gt;You put up your hand.&lt;br /&gt;“No, and I will never; and if there was ever any doubt of it, I learnt it once&lt;br /&gt;and for all in the archives kept by Maharet.”&lt;br /&gt;“She allowed you to see her archives, the books she’s saved over the course of&lt;br /&gt;time”&lt;br /&gt;“Yes, it was remarkable, you know... a storehouse of tablets, scrolls,&lt;br /&gt;parchments – books and poems from cultures of which the world knows nothing, I&lt;br /&gt;think, Books lost from time. Of course she forbade me to reveal anything I found&lt;br /&gt;or speak in detail of our meeting. She said it was too rash tampering with&lt;br /&gt;things, and she confirmed your fear that I might go to the Talamasca – my old&lt;br /&gt;mortal psychic friends. I have not. I will not. But it is a very easy vow to&lt;br /&gt;keep."&lt;br /&gt;“Why so?”&lt;br /&gt;"Pandora, when I saw all those old writings – I knew I was no longer human. I&lt;br /&gt;knew that the history lying there to be collected was no longer mine! I am not&lt;br /&gt;one of these!” Your eyes swept the room. "Of course you must have heard this a&lt;br /&gt;thousand times from fledgling vampires! But you see, I had a fervent faith that&lt;br /&gt;philosophy and reason would make a bridge for me by which I could go and come in&lt;br /&gt;both worlds. Well, there is no bridge. It’s gone.”&lt;br /&gt;Your sadness shimmered about you, flashing in your young eyes and in the&lt;br /&gt;softness of your new flesh.&lt;br /&gt;"So you know that," I said. I didn’t plan the words. But out they came. “You&lt;br /&gt;know.” I gave a soft bitter laugh.&lt;br /&gt;“Indeed I do. I knew when I held documents from your time, so many from your&lt;br /&gt;time, Imperial Rome, and other crumbling bits of inscribed rock I couldn’t even&lt;br /&gt;hope to place. I knew. I didn’t care about them, Pandora! I care about what we&lt;br /&gt;are, what we are now.”&lt;br /&gt;“How remarkable,” I said. “You don’t know how much I admire you, or how&lt;br /&gt;attractive is your disposition to me.”&lt;br /&gt;“I am happy to hear this,” you said. Then you leaned forward towards me: “I&lt;br /&gt;don’t say we do not carry our human souls with us, our history; of course we do.&lt;br /&gt;“I remember once a long time ago, Armand told me that he asked Lestat, ‘How will&lt;br /&gt;I ever understand the human race?' Lestat said, ‘Read or see all the plays of&lt;br /&gt;Shakespeare and you will know all you ever need to know about the human race.'&lt;br /&gt;Armand did it. He devoured the poems, he sat through the plays, he watched the&lt;br /&gt;brilliant new films with Laurence Fishburne and Kenneth Branagh and Leonardo&lt;br /&gt;DiCaprio. And when Armand and I last spoke together, this is what he said of his&lt;br /&gt;education:&lt;br /&gt;" 'Lestat was right. He gave me not books but a passage into understanding. This&lt;br /&gt;man Shakespeare writes,' – and I quote both Armand and Shakespeare now as Armand&lt;br /&gt;spoke it, as I will to you – as if it came from my heart:&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,&lt;br /&gt;Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,&lt;br /&gt;To the last syllable of recorded time;&lt;br /&gt;And all our yesterdays have lighted fools&lt;br /&gt;The way to dusty death. Out, out brief candle.&lt;br /&gt;Life’s but a walking shadow; a poor player,&lt;br /&gt;That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,&lt;br /&gt;And then is heard no more; it is a tale&lt;br /&gt;Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,&lt;br /&gt;Signifying nothing.&lt;br /&gt;“ ‘This man writes this,’ said Armand to me, ‘and we all know that it is&lt;br /&gt;absolutely the truth and every revelation has sooner or later fallen before it,&lt;br /&gt;and yet we want to love the way he has said it, we want to hear it again! We&lt;br /&gt;want to remember it! We want to never forget a single word.’ ”&lt;br /&gt;We were both silent for a moment. You looked down, you rested your chin on your&lt;br /&gt;knuckles. I knew the whole weight of Armand’s going into the sun was on you, and&lt;br /&gt;I had so loved your recitation of the words, and the words themselves.&lt;br /&gt;Finally, I said, “And this gives me pleasure. Think of it, pleasure. That you&lt;br /&gt;recite these words to me now.”&lt;br /&gt;You smiled.&lt;br /&gt;"I want to know now what we can learn," you said. “I want to know what we can&lt;br /&gt;see! So I come to you, a Child of the Millennia, a vampire who drank from the&lt;br /&gt;Queen Akasha herself, one who has survived two thousand years. And I ask you,&lt;br /&gt;Pandora, please will you write for me, write your story, write what you will.”&lt;br /&gt;For a long moment I gave you no answer.&lt;br /&gt;Then I said sharply that I could not. But something had stirred in me. I saw and&lt;br /&gt;heard arguments and tirades of centuries ago, I saw the poet's lifted light&lt;br /&gt;shine on eras I had known intimately out of love. Other eras I had never known,&lt;br /&gt;wandering, ignorant, a wraith.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, there was a tale to be written. There was. But at the moment I could not&lt;br /&gt;admit it.&lt;br /&gt;You were in misery, having thought of Armand, having remembered his walking into&lt;br /&gt;the morning sun. You mourned for Armand.&lt;br /&gt;"Was there any bond between you?” you asked. "Forgive me my boldness, but I mean&lt;br /&gt;was there any bond between you and Armand when you met, because Marius had given&lt;br /&gt;you both the Dark Gift? I know no jealousy exists, that I can feel, I wouldn’t&lt;br /&gt;bring up the very name Armand if I detected a hurt in you, but all else is an&lt;br /&gt;absence, a silence. Was there no bond'?”&lt;br /&gt;“The bond is only grief. He went into the sun. And grief is absolutely the&lt;br /&gt;easiest and safest of bonds.”&lt;br /&gt;You laughed under your breath.&lt;br /&gt;“What can I do to make you consider my request? Have pity on me, Gracious Lady,&lt;br /&gt;entrust to me your song.”&lt;br /&gt;I smiled indulgently, but it was impossible, I thought.&lt;br /&gt;“It’s far too dissonant, my dear,” I said. “It’s far too –&lt;br /&gt;I shut my eyes.&lt;br /&gt;I had wanted to say that my song was far too painful to sing.&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly your eyes moved upwards. Your expression changed. It was almost as if&lt;br /&gt;you were deliberately trying to appear to enter a trance. Slowly you turned your&lt;br /&gt;head. You pointed, with your hand close to the table, then let your hand go lax&lt;br /&gt;“What is it, David?” I said. “What are you seeing?"&lt;br /&gt;“Spirits, Pandora, ghosts.”&lt;br /&gt;You shuddered as if to dear your head.&lt;br /&gt;“But that’s unheard of,” I said. Yet I knew that he was telling the truth. "The&lt;br /&gt;Dark Gift takes away that power. Even the ancient witches, Maharet and Mekare,&lt;br /&gt;told us this, that once Akasha’s blood entered them, and they became vampires,&lt;br /&gt;they never heard or saw the spirits again. You’ve recently been with them. Did&lt;br /&gt;you tell them of this power?”&lt;br /&gt;He nodded. Obviously some loyalty bound him&lt;br /&gt;not to say that they did not have it. But I knew they&lt;br /&gt;did not. I saw it in his mind, and I had known it&lt;br /&gt;myself when I had encountered the ancient twins, the twins who had struck down&lt;br /&gt;the Queen of the Damned.&lt;br /&gt;"I can see spirits, Pandora," you said with the most troubled expression. “I can&lt;br /&gt;see them anywhere if I try, and in some very specific places when they choose.&lt;br /&gt;Lestat saw the ghost of Roger, his victim in Memnoch the Devil.”&lt;br /&gt;“But that was an exception, a surge of love in – the man’s soul that somehow&lt;br /&gt;defied death, or delayed the soul’s termination – something we can’t&lt;br /&gt;understand.”&lt;br /&gt;“I see spirits, but I haven't come to burden you with this or frighten you.”&lt;br /&gt;"You must tell me more about this,” I said. “What did you see right now?"&lt;br /&gt;"A weak spirit. It couldn’t harm anyone. It's one of those sad humans who does&lt;br /&gt;not know he's dead. They are an atmosphere around the planet. The 'earthbound’&lt;br /&gt;is the name for them. But Pandora, I have more than that in myself to explore."&lt;br /&gt;You continued:&lt;br /&gt;“Apparently each century yields a new kind of vampire, or let us say that our&lt;br /&gt;course of growth was not set in the beginning any more than the course of human&lt;br /&gt;beings, Some night perhaps I will tell you everything I see – these spirits who&lt;br /&gt;were never clear to me when I was mortal – I'll tell you about something Armand&lt;br /&gt;confided to me, about the colors he saw when he took life, how the soul left&lt;br /&gt;body in waves of radiating color!”&lt;br /&gt;“I’ve never heard of such a thing!”&lt;br /&gt;“I too see this," you said.&lt;br /&gt;I could see it hurt you almost too much to speak of Armand.&lt;br /&gt;“But whatever possessed Armand to believe in the Veil'?” I asked, suddenly&lt;br /&gt;amazed at my own passion. “Why did he go into the sun? How could such a thing&lt;br /&gt;kill Lestat’s reason and will? Veronica. Did they know the very name means Vera&lt;br /&gt;Ikon, that there was never any such person, that she could not be found by one&lt;br /&gt;drawn back to ancient Jerusalem on the day Christ carried his cross; she was a&lt;br /&gt;concoction of Priests. Didn’t they know?"&lt;br /&gt;I think I had taken the two notebooks in hand, for I looked down and I saw that&lt;br /&gt;I did indeed hold them. In fact, I clutched both of them to my breast and&lt;br /&gt;examined one of the pens.&lt;br /&gt;“Reason," I whispered. “Oh, precious reason! And consciousness within a void.” I&lt;br /&gt;shook my head, smiling kindly at you, “And vampires who speak now with spirits!&lt;br /&gt;Humans who can travel from body to body.”&lt;br /&gt;I went on with a wholly unfamiliar energy.&lt;br /&gt;“A lively fashionable modern cult of angels, devotion thriving everywhere. And&lt;br /&gt;people rising from operating tables to speak of life after death, a tunnel, an&lt;br /&gt;embracing love! Oh, you have been created perhaps in an auspicious time! I don’t&lt;br /&gt;know what to make of it.”&lt;br /&gt;You were obviously quite impressed by these words, or rather the way that my&lt;br /&gt;perspective had been drawn from me. So was I.&lt;br /&gt;“I’ve only started,” you said, "and will keep company alike with brilliant&lt;br /&gt;Children of the Millennia and street-corner fortune tellers who deal out the&lt;br /&gt;cards of the Tarot. I’m eager to gaze into crystal balls and darkened mirrors.&lt;br /&gt;I’ll search now among those whom others dismiss as mad, or among us – among&lt;br /&gt;those like you, who have looked on something that they do not believe they&lt;br /&gt;should share! That's it, isn’t it? But I ask you to share it. I’m finished with&lt;br /&gt;the ordinary human soul. I am finished with science and psychology, with&lt;br /&gt;microscopes and perhaps even with the telescopes aimed at the stars.”&lt;br /&gt;I was quite enthralled. How strongly you meant it. I could feel my face so warm&lt;br /&gt;with feeling for you as I looked at you. I think my mouth was slack with wonder.&lt;br /&gt;“I am a miracle unto myself,” you said. “I am immortal, and I want to learn&lt;br /&gt;about us! You have a tale to tell, you are ancient, and deeply broken. I feel&lt;br /&gt;love for you and cherish that it is what it is and nothing more.”&lt;br /&gt;“What a strange thing to say!”&lt;br /&gt;“Love.” You shrugged your shoulders. You looked up and then back at me for&lt;br /&gt;emphasis. “And it rained and it rained for millions of years, and the volcanoes&lt;br /&gt;boiled and the oceans cooled, and then there was love?” You shrugged to make a&lt;br /&gt;mock of the absurdity.&lt;br /&gt;I couldn’t help but laugh at your little gest. Too perfect, I thought. But I was&lt;br /&gt;suddenly so torn.&lt;br /&gt;“This is very unexpected," I said. “Because if I do have a story, a very small&lt;br /&gt;story –”&lt;br /&gt;“Yes?”&lt;br /&gt;“Well, my story – if I have one – is very much to the point. It’s linked to the&lt;br /&gt;very points you've made."&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly something came over me. I laughed again softly.&lt;br /&gt;“I understand you.” I said. “Oh, not that you can see spirits, for that is a&lt;br /&gt;great subject unto itself.&lt;br /&gt;"But I see now the source of your strength. You have lived an entire human life.&lt;br /&gt;Unlike Marius, unlike me, you weren’t taken in your prime. You were taken near&lt;br /&gt;the moment of your natural death, and you will not settle for the adventures and&lt;br /&gt;faults of the earthbound! You are determined to forge ahead with the courage of&lt;br /&gt;one who has died of old age and then finds himself risen from the grave. You’ve&lt;br /&gt;kicked aside the funeral wreaths. You are ready for Mount Olympus, aren’t you?”&lt;br /&gt;“Or for Osiris in the depths of the darkness," you said. “Or for the shades in&lt;br /&gt;Hades. Certainly I am ready for the spirits, for the vampires, for those who see&lt;br /&gt;the future and claim to know past lives, for you who have a stunning intellect&lt;br /&gt;encased beautifully, to endure for so many years, an intellect which has perhaps&lt;br /&gt;all but destroyed your heart.”&lt;br /&gt;I gasped.&lt;br /&gt;“Forgive me. That was not proper of me," you said.&lt;br /&gt;“No, explain your meaning.”&lt;br /&gt;“You always take the hearts from the victims, isn’t it so? You want the heart.”&lt;br /&gt;“Perhaps. Don’t expect wisdom from me as it might come from Marius, or the&lt;br /&gt;ancient twins."&lt;br /&gt;“You draw me to you,” you said.&lt;br /&gt;“Why ?”&lt;br /&gt;“Because you do have a story inside you; it lies articulate and waiting to be&lt;br /&gt;written – behind your silence and your suffering.”&lt;br /&gt;"You are too romantic, friend,” I said.&lt;br /&gt;You waited patiently. I think you could feel the tumult in me, the shivering of&lt;br /&gt;my soul in the face of so much new emotion.&lt;br /&gt;"It’s such a small story," I said. I saw images, memories, moments, the stuff&lt;br /&gt;that can incite souls to action and creation. I saw the very faintest&lt;br /&gt;possibility of faith.&lt;br /&gt;I think you already knew the answer.&lt;br /&gt;You knew what I would do when I did not.&lt;br /&gt;You smiled discreetly, but you were eager and waiting.&lt;br /&gt;I looked at you and thought of trying to write it, write it all out...&lt;br /&gt;“You want me to leave now, don't you'?” you said. You rose, collected your&lt;br /&gt;rain-spattered coat and bent over gracefully to kiss my hand.&lt;br /&gt;My hands were clutching the notebooks.&lt;br /&gt;"No,” I said, "I can’t do it.”&lt;br /&gt;You made no immediate judgment.&lt;br /&gt;“Come back in two nights,” I said. "I promise you will have your two notebooks&lt;br /&gt;for you, even if they are completely empty or only contain a better explanation&lt;br /&gt;of why I can’t retrieve my lost life. I won’t disappoint you. But expect&lt;br /&gt;nothing, except that I will come and I will put these books in your hands.”&lt;br /&gt;"Two nights,” you said, "and we meet here again.”&lt;br /&gt;In silence I watched you leave the cafe.&lt;br /&gt;And now you see it has begun, David.&lt;br /&gt;And now you see, David, l have made our meeting the introduction to the story&lt;br /&gt;you asked me to tell.&lt;br /&gt;2&lt;br /&gt;PANDORA'S STORY&lt;br /&gt;I was born in Rome, during the reign of Augustus Caesar, in the year that you&lt;br /&gt;now reckon to have been 15 B.C., or fifteen years “before Christ."&lt;br /&gt;All the Roman history and Roman names I give here are accurate; I have not&lt;br /&gt;falsified them or made up stories or created false political events. Everything&lt;br /&gt;bears upon my ultimate fate and the fate of Marius. Nothing is included for love&lt;br /&gt;of the past. I have omitted my family name. I did this because my family has a&lt;br /&gt;history, and I cannot bring myself to connect their ancient reputations, deeds,&lt;br /&gt;epitaphs to this tale. Also Marius, when he confided in Lestat, did not give the&lt;br /&gt;full name of his Roman family. And I respect this and that also is not revealed.&lt;br /&gt;Augustus had been Emperor for over ten years, and it was a marvelous time to be&lt;br /&gt;an educated woman in Rome, women had immense freedom, and I had a rich Senator&lt;br /&gt;for a father, five prosperous brothers, and grew up Motherless but cherished by&lt;br /&gt;teams of Greek tutors and nurses who gave me everything I wanted.&lt;br /&gt;Now, if I really wanted to make this difficult for you, David, I’d write it in&lt;br /&gt;classical Latin. But I won’t. And I must tell you that, unlike you, I came by my&lt;br /&gt;education in English haphazardly, and certainly I never learnt it from&lt;br /&gt;Shakespeare’s plays.&lt;br /&gt;Indeed I have passed through many stages of the English language in my&lt;br /&gt;wanderings and in my reading, but the great majority of my true acquaintance&lt;br /&gt;with it has been in this century, and I am writing for you in colloquial&lt;br /&gt;English.&lt;br /&gt;There’s another reason For this, which I’m sure you’ll understand if you’ve read&lt;br /&gt;the modern translation of Petronius's Satyricon or Juvenal’s satires. Very&lt;br /&gt;modern English is a really true equivalent to the Latin of my time.&lt;br /&gt;The formal letters of Imperial Rome won’t tell you this. But the graffiti&lt;br /&gt;scratched on the walls of Pompeii will make it obvious. We had a sophisticated&lt;br /&gt;tongue, countless clever verbal shortcuts and common expressions.&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to write, therefore, in the English which feels equivalent and natural&lt;br /&gt;to me.&lt;br /&gt;Let me say here quickly – while the action is at a halt – that I was never, as&lt;br /&gt;Marius said, a Greek Courtesan. I was living with such a pretense when Marius&lt;br /&gt;gave me the Dark Gift, and perhaps out of consideration for old mortal secrets&lt;br /&gt;he so described me. Or maybe it was contemptuous of him to style me this way. I&lt;br /&gt;don't know.&lt;br /&gt;But Marius knew all about my Roman family, that it was a Senatorial family, as&lt;br /&gt;purely aristocratic and privileged as his own mortal family, and that my people&lt;br /&gt;dated back to the time of Romulus and Remus, the same as Marius’s mortal line.&lt;br /&gt;Marius did not succumb to me because I had “beautiful arms,” as he indicated to&lt;br /&gt;Lestat. This trivialization was perhaps provocative.&lt;br /&gt;I don’t hold anything against either of them, Marius or Lestat. I don't know who&lt;br /&gt;got what wrong.&lt;br /&gt;My feeling for my Father is so great to this very night, as I sit in the cafe,&lt;br /&gt;writing for you, David, that I am astonished at the power of writing – of&lt;br /&gt;putting words to paper and bringing back so vividly to myself my Father’s loving&lt;br /&gt;face.&lt;br /&gt;My Father was to meet a terrible end. He did not deserve what happened to him.&lt;br /&gt;But some of our kinsmen survived and re-established our family in later times.&lt;br /&gt;My Father was rich, one of the true millionaires of that age, and his capital&lt;br /&gt;was invested widely. He was a soldier more often than required of him, a&lt;br /&gt;Senator, a thoughtful and quiet man by disposition. And after the terrors of the&lt;br /&gt;Civil War, he was a great supporter of Caesar Augustus and very much in the&lt;br /&gt;Emperor’s good graces.&lt;br /&gt;Of course he dreamed that the Roman Republic would come back; we all did. But&lt;br /&gt;Augustus had brought unity and peace to the Empire.&lt;br /&gt;I met Augustus many times in my youth, and it was always at some crowded social&lt;br /&gt;function and of no consequence. He looked like his portraits; a lean man with a&lt;br /&gt;long thin nose, short hair, average face; he was rather rational and pragmatic&lt;br /&gt;by nature and not invested with any abnormal cruelty. He had no personal vanity.&lt;br /&gt;The poor man was really blessed that he couldn't see into the future – that he&lt;br /&gt;had no inkling of all the horrors and madness that would begin with Tiberius,&lt;br /&gt;his successor, and go on for so long under other members of his family.&lt;br /&gt;Only in later times did I understand the full singularity and accomplishment of&lt;br /&gt;Augustus's long reign. Was it forty-four years of peace throughout the cities of&lt;br /&gt;the Empire?&lt;br /&gt;Alas, to be born during this time was to be born during a time of creativity and&lt;br /&gt;prosperity, when Rome was caput mundi, or capital of the world. And when I look&lt;br /&gt;back on it, I realize what a powerful combination it was to have both tradition&lt;br /&gt;and vast sums of money; to have old values and new power.&lt;br /&gt;Our family life was conservative, strict, even a little dusty. And yet we had&lt;br /&gt;every luxury. My Father grew more quiet and conservative over the years. He&lt;br /&gt;enjoyed his grandchildren, who were born while he was still vigorous and active.&lt;br /&gt;Though he had fought principally in the Northern campaigns along the Rhine, he&lt;br /&gt;had been stationed in Syria for a while. He had studied in Athens. He had served&lt;br /&gt;so much and so well that he was being allowed an early retirement in the years&lt;br /&gt;during which I grew up, an early withdrawal from the social life that whirled&lt;br /&gt;around the Imperial Palace, though I did not realize this at the time.&lt;br /&gt;My five brothers came before me. So there was no "ritual Roman mourning” when I&lt;br /&gt;was born, as you hear tell of in Roman families when a girl comes into the&lt;br /&gt;world. Far from it.&lt;br /&gt;Five times my Father had stood in the atrium – the main enclosed courtyard, or&lt;br /&gt;peristyle, of our house with its pillars and stairs and grand marble-work – five&lt;br /&gt;times he had stood there before the assembled family and held in his hands a&lt;br /&gt;newborn son, inspected it and then pronounced it perfect and fit to be reared as&lt;br /&gt;his own, as was his prerogative. Now, you know he had the power of life and&lt;br /&gt;death over his sons from that moment on.&lt;br /&gt;If my Father hadn’t wanted these boys for any reason, he would have “exposed”&lt;br /&gt;them to die of starvation. It was against the law to steal such a child and make&lt;br /&gt;it a slave.&lt;br /&gt;Having five boys already, my Father was expected by some to get rid of me&lt;br /&gt;immediately. Who needs a girl? But my Father never exposed or rejected any of my&lt;br /&gt;Mother’s children.&lt;br /&gt;And by the time I arrived, I'm told, he cried for joy.&lt;br /&gt;"Thank the gods! A little darling.", I heard the story ad nauseam from my&lt;br /&gt;brothers, who, every time I acted up – did something unseemly, frisky and wild –&lt;br /&gt;said sneeringly, “Thank the gods, a little darling!” It became a charming goad.&lt;br /&gt;My Mother died when I was two, and all I recall of her are gentleness and&lt;br /&gt;sweetness. She’d lost as many children as she had birthed, and early death was&lt;br /&gt;typical enough. Her Epitaph was beautifully written by my Father, and her memory&lt;br /&gt;honored throughout my life. My Father never took another woman into the house.&lt;br /&gt;He slept with a few of the female slaves, but this was nothing unusual. My&lt;br /&gt;brothers did the same thing. This was common in a Roman household. My Father&lt;br /&gt;brought no new woman from another family to rule over me.&lt;br /&gt;There is no grief in me for my Mother because I was simply too young for it, and&lt;br /&gt;if I cried when my Mother did not come back, I don't remember it.&lt;br /&gt;What I remember is having the run of a big old rectangular palatial Roman house,&lt;br /&gt;with many rectangular rooms built onto the main rectangle, one off another, the&lt;br /&gt;whole nestled in a huge garden high on the Palatine Hill. It was a house of&lt;br /&gt;marble floors and richly painted walls, the garden meandering and surrounding&lt;br /&gt;every room of it.&lt;br /&gt;I was the true jewel of my Father's eye, and I remember having a marvelous time&lt;br /&gt;watching my brothers practice outside with their short broadswords, or listening&lt;br /&gt;as their tutors instructed them, and then having fine teachers of my own who&lt;br /&gt;taught me how to read the entire Aeneid of Virgil before I was five years old.&lt;br /&gt;I loved words. I love to sing them and speak them and even now, I must admit, I&lt;br /&gt;have fallen into the joy of writing them. I couldn’t have told you that nights&lt;br /&gt;ago, David. You’ve brought back something to me and I must make the admission.&lt;br /&gt;And I must not write too fast in this mortal cafe, lest human beings notice!&lt;br /&gt;Ah, so we continue.&lt;br /&gt;My Father thought it was hysterical that I could recite verses from Virgil at so&lt;br /&gt;young an age and he liked nothing better than to show me off at banquets at&lt;br /&gt;which he entertained his conservative and somewhat old-fashioned Senatorial&lt;br /&gt;friends, and sometimes Caesar Augustus himself. Caesar Augustus was an agreeable&lt;br /&gt;man. I don't think my Father ever really wanted him at our house, however. But&lt;br /&gt;now and then, I suppose, the Emperor had to be wined and dined.&lt;br /&gt;I’d rush in with my nurse, give a rousing recital and then be whisked away to&lt;br /&gt;where I could not see the proud Senators of Rome glutting themselves on peacock&lt;br /&gt;brains and garum – surely you know what garum is. It’s the horrible sauce the&lt;br /&gt;Romans put on everything, rather like today’s ketchup. Definitely it defeated&lt;br /&gt;the purpose of having eels and squids on your plate, or ostrich brains or unborn&lt;br /&gt;lamb or whatever other absurd delicacies were being brought by the platterful.&lt;br /&gt;The point is, as you know, the Romans seemed to have a special place in their&lt;br /&gt;hearts for genuine gluttony, and the banquets inevitably became a disgrace. The&lt;br /&gt;guests would go off to the vomitorium of the house to heave up the first five&lt;br /&gt;courses of the meal so that they could then swallow the others. And I would lie&lt;br /&gt;upstairs, giggling in my bed, listening to all this laughter and vomiting. Then&lt;br /&gt;the rape of the entire catering staff of slaves would follow, whether they were&lt;br /&gt;boys or girls or a mixture of both.&lt;br /&gt;Family meals were an entirely different affair. Then we were old Romans.&lt;br /&gt;Everyone sat at the table; my Father was undisputed Master of his house, and&lt;br /&gt;would tolerate no criticism of Caesar Augustus, who, as you know, was Julius&lt;br /&gt;Caesar's nephew, and did not really rule as Emperor by law.&lt;br /&gt;“When the time is right, he will step down," said my Father. "He knows he can’t&lt;br /&gt;do it now. He is more weary and wise than ever he was ambitious. Who wants&lt;br /&gt;another Civil War?"&lt;br /&gt;The times were actually too prosperous for men of stature to make a revolt.&lt;br /&gt;Augustus kept the peace. He had profound respect for the Roman Senate. He&lt;br /&gt;rebuilt old Temples because he thought people needed the piety they had known&lt;br /&gt;under the Republic.&lt;br /&gt;He gave free corn from Egypt to the poor. Nobody starved in Rome. He maintained&lt;br /&gt;a dizzying amount of old festivals, games and spectacles – enough to sicken one&lt;br /&gt;actually. But often as patriotic Romans we had to be there.&lt;br /&gt;Of course there was great cruelty in the arena. There were cruel executions.&lt;br /&gt;There was the ever present cruelty of slavery.&lt;br /&gt;But what is not understood by those today is that there coexisted with all this&lt;br /&gt;a sense of individual freedom on the part of even the poorest man.&lt;br /&gt;The courts took time over their decisions. They consulted the past laws. They&lt;br /&gt;followed logic and code. People could speak their minds fairly openly.&lt;br /&gt;I note this because it is key to this story: that Marius and I both were born in&lt;br /&gt;a time when Roman law was, as Marius would say, based on reason, as opposed to&lt;br /&gt;divine revelation.&lt;br /&gt;We are totally unlike those blood drinkers brought to Darkness in lands of Magic&lt;br /&gt;and Mystery.&lt;br /&gt;Not only did we trust Augustus when we were alive, we also believed in the&lt;br /&gt;tangible power of the Roman Senate. We believed in public virtue and character;&lt;br /&gt;we held to a way of life which did not involve rituals, prayers, magic, except&lt;br /&gt;superficially. Virtue was embedded in character. That was the inheritance of the&lt;br /&gt;Roman Republic, which Marius and I shared.&lt;br /&gt;Of course, our house was overcrowded with slaves. There were brilliant Greeks&lt;br /&gt;and grunting laborers and a fleet of women to rush about polishing busts and&lt;br /&gt;vases, and the city itself was choked with manumitted slaves – freedmen – some&lt;br /&gt;of whom were very rich.&lt;br /&gt;They were all our people, our slaves.&lt;br /&gt;My Father and I sat up all night when my old Greek teacher was dying. We held&lt;br /&gt;his hands until the body was cold. Nobody was flogged on our estate in Rome&lt;br /&gt;unless my Father himself gave the order. Our country slaves loafed under the&lt;br /&gt;fruit trees. Our stewards were rich, and showed off their wealth in their&lt;br /&gt;clothes.&lt;br /&gt;I remember a time when there were so many old Greek slaves in the garden that I&lt;br /&gt;could sit day after day and listen to them argue. They had nothing else to do. I&lt;br /&gt;learned much from this.&lt;br /&gt;I grew up more than happy. If you think I exaggerate the extent of my education,&lt;br /&gt;consult the letters of Pliny or other actual memoirs and correspondence of the&lt;br /&gt;times. Highborn young girls were well educated; modern Roman women went about&lt;br /&gt;unhampered for the most part by male interference. We partook of life as did&lt;br /&gt;men.&lt;br /&gt;For example, I was scarcely eight years old when I was first taken to the arena&lt;br /&gt;with several of my brothers' wives, to have the dubious pleasure of seeing&lt;br /&gt;exotic creatures, such as giraffes, tear madly around before being shot to death&lt;br /&gt;with arrows, this display then followed by a small group of gladiators who would&lt;br /&gt;hack other gladiators to death, and then after that came the flock of criminals&lt;br /&gt;to be fed to the hungry lions.&lt;br /&gt;David, I can hear the sound of those lions as if it were now. There’s nothing&lt;br /&gt;between me and the moment that I sat in the wooden benches, perhaps two rows up&lt;br /&gt;– the premium seats – and I watched these beasts devour living beings, as I was&lt;br /&gt;supposed to do, with a pleasure meant to demonstrate a strength of heart, a&lt;br /&gt;fearlessness in the face of death, rather than simple and utter monstrousness.&lt;br /&gt;The audience screamed and laughed as men and women ran from the beasts. Some&lt;br /&gt;victims would give the crowd no such satisfaction. They merely stood there as&lt;br /&gt;the hungry lion attacked; those who were being devoured alive almost invariably&lt;br /&gt;lay in a stupor as though their souls had already taken flight, though the lion&lt;br /&gt;had not reached the throat.&lt;br /&gt;I remember the smell of it. But more than anything, I remember the noise of the&lt;br /&gt;crowd.&lt;br /&gt;I passed the test of character, I could look at all of it. I could watch the&lt;br /&gt;champion gladiator finally meet his end, lying there bloody in the sand, as the&lt;br /&gt;sword went through his chest.&lt;br /&gt;But I can certainly remember my Father declaring under his breath that the whole&lt;br /&gt;affair was disgusting. In fact, everybody I knew thought it was all disgusting.&lt;br /&gt;My Father believed, as did others, that the common man needed all this blood.&lt;br /&gt;We, the highborn, had to preside over it for the common man. It had a religious&lt;br /&gt;quality to it, all this spectacular viciousness.&lt;br /&gt;The making of these appalling spectacles was considered something of a social&lt;br /&gt;responsibility.&lt;br /&gt;Also Roman life was a life of being outdoors, involved in things, attending&lt;br /&gt;ceremonies and spectacles, being seen, taking an interest, coming together with&lt;br /&gt;others.&lt;br /&gt;You came together with all the other highborn and lowborn of the city and you&lt;br /&gt;joined in one mass to witness a triumphant procession, a great offering at the&lt;br /&gt;altar of Augustus, an ancient ceremony, a game, a chariot race.&lt;br /&gt;Now in the Twentieth Century, when I watch the endless intrigue and slaughter in&lt;br /&gt;motion pictures and on television throughout our Western world, I wonder if&lt;br /&gt;people do not need it, do not need to see murder, slaughter, death in all forms.&lt;br /&gt;Television at times seems an unbroken series of gladiatorial fights or&lt;br /&gt;massacres. And look at the traffic now in video recordings of actual war.&lt;br /&gt;Records of war have become art and entertainment.&lt;br /&gt;The narrator speaks softly as the camera passes over the heap of bodies, or the&lt;br /&gt;skeletal children sobbing with their starving mothers. But it is gripping. One&lt;br /&gt;can wallow, shaking one's head, in all this death. Nights of television are&lt;br /&gt;devoted to old footage of men dying with guns in their hands.&lt;br /&gt;I think we look because we are afraid. But in Rome, you had to look so that you&lt;br /&gt;would be hard, and that applied to women as well as men.&lt;br /&gt;But the overall point is – I was not closeted away as a Greek woman might have&lt;br /&gt;been in some old Hellenistic household. I did not suer under the earlier customs&lt;br /&gt;of the Roman Republic.&lt;br /&gt;I vividly remember the absolute beauty of that time, and my Father's heartfelt&lt;br /&gt;avowal that Augustus was a god, and that Rome had never been more pleasing to&lt;br /&gt;her deities.&lt;br /&gt;Now I want to give you one very important recollection. Let me set the scene.&lt;br /&gt;First, let’s take up the question of Virgil, and the poem he wrote, the Aeneid,&lt;br /&gt;greatly amplifying and glorifying the adventures of the hero Aeneas, a Trojan&lt;br /&gt;fleeing the horrors of defeat by the Greeks who came out of the famous Trojan&lt;br /&gt;horse to massacre Helen’s city of Troy.&lt;br /&gt;It's a charming story. I always loved it, Aeneas leaves dying Troy, valiantly&lt;br /&gt;journeys all the way to beautiful Italy and there founds our nation.&lt;br /&gt;But the point is that Augustus loved and supported Virgil all of Virgil's life,&lt;br /&gt;and Virgil was a respected poet, a poet fine and decent to quote, an approved&lt;br /&gt;and patriotic poet. It was perfectly fine to like Virgil.&lt;br /&gt;Virgil died before I was born. But by ten I’d read everything he’d written, and&lt;br /&gt;had read Horace as well, and Lucretius, much of Cicero, and all the Greek&lt;br /&gt;manuscripts we possessed, and there were plenty.&lt;br /&gt;My Father didn’t erect his library for show. It was a place where members of the&lt;br /&gt;family spent hours. It was also where he sat to write his letters – which he&lt;br /&gt;seemed endlessly to be doing – letters on behalf of the Senate, the Emperor, the&lt;br /&gt;courts, his friends, etc.&lt;br /&gt;Back to Virgil. I had also read another Roman poet, who was alive still, and&lt;br /&gt;deeply and dangerously out of favor with Augustus, the god. This was the poet&lt;br /&gt;Ovid, the author of the Metamorphoses, and dozens of other earthy, hilarious and&lt;br /&gt;bawdy works.&lt;br /&gt;Now, when I was too young to remember, Augustus turned on Ovid, whom Augustus&lt;br /&gt;had also loved, and Augustus banished Ovid to some horrible place on the Black&lt;br /&gt;Sea. Maybe it wasn't so horrible. But it was the sort of place cultured city&lt;br /&gt;Romans expect to be horrible – very far away from the capital and full of&lt;br /&gt;barbarians.&lt;br /&gt;Ovid lived there a long time, and his books were banned all over Rome. You&lt;br /&gt;couldn't find them in the bookshops or the public libraries. Or at the book&lt;br /&gt;stands all over the marketplace.&lt;br /&gt;You know this was a hot time for popular reading; books were everywhere – both&lt;br /&gt;in scroll form and in codex, that is, with bound pages – and many booksellers&lt;br /&gt;had teams of Greek slaves spending all day copying books for public consumption.&lt;br /&gt;To continue, Ovid had fallen out of favor with Augustus, and he had been banned,&lt;br /&gt;but men like my Father were not about to burn their copies of the Metamorphoses,&lt;br /&gt;or any other of Ovid's work, and the only reason they didn’t plead for Ovid's&lt;br /&gt;pardon was fear.&lt;br /&gt;The whole scandal had something to do with Augustus’s daughter, Julia, who was a&lt;br /&gt;notorious slut by anyone’s standards. How Ovid became involved in Julia’s love&lt;br /&gt;affairs I don’t know. Perhaps his sensuous early poetry, the Amores, was&lt;br /&gt;considered to be a bad influence. There was also a lot of “reform” in the air&lt;br /&gt;during the reign of Augustus, a lot of talk of old values.&lt;br /&gt;I don’t think anyone knows what really happened between Caesar Augustus and&lt;br /&gt;Ovid, but Ovid was banished for the rest of his life from Imperial Rome.&lt;br /&gt;But I had read the Amores and the Metamorphoses in well-worn copies by the time&lt;br /&gt;of this incident which I want to recount. And many of my Father’s friends were&lt;br /&gt;always worried about Ovid.&lt;br /&gt;Now to the specific recollection. I was ten years old, I came in from playing,&lt;br /&gt;covered with dust from head to foot, my hair loose, my dress torn, and breezed&lt;br /&gt;into my Father’s large receiving room – and I plopped down at the foot of his&lt;br /&gt;couch to listen to what was being said, as he lounged there with all appropriate&lt;br /&gt;Roman dignity, chatting with several other lounging men who had come to visit.&lt;br /&gt;I knew all of the men but one, and this one was fair-haired and blue-eyed, and&lt;br /&gt;very tall, and he turned, during the conversation – which was all whispers and&lt;br /&gt;nods – and winked at me.&lt;br /&gt;This was Marius, with skin slightly tanned from his travels and a flashing&lt;br /&gt;beauty in his eyes. He had three names like everyone else. But again, I will not&lt;br /&gt;disclose the name of his family. But I knew it. I knew he was sort of the “bad&lt;br /&gt;boy” in an intellectual way, the “poet" and the “loafer.” What nobody had told&lt;br /&gt;me was that he was beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;Now, on this day, this was Marius when he was alive, about fifteen years before&lt;br /&gt;he was to be made a vampire. I can calculate that he was only twenty-five. But&lt;br /&gt;I’m not certain.&lt;br /&gt;To continue, the men paid no attention to me, and it became plain to my ever&lt;br /&gt;curious little mind that they were giving my Father news of Ovid, that the tall&lt;br /&gt;blond one with the remarkable blue eyes, the one called Marius, had just&lt;br /&gt;returned from the Baltic Coast, and he had given my Father several presents,&lt;br /&gt;which were in fact good copies of Ovid’s work, both past and current.&lt;br /&gt;The men assured my Father that it was still far too dangerous to go crying to&lt;br /&gt;Caesar Augustus over Ovid, and my Father accepted this. But if I’m not mistaken,&lt;br /&gt;he entrusted some money for Ovid to Marius, the blond one.&lt;br /&gt;When the gentlemen were all leaving, I saw Marius in the atrium, got a measure&lt;br /&gt;of his full height, which was quite unusual for a Roman, and let out a girlish&lt;br /&gt;gasp and then a streak of laughter. He winked at me again.&lt;br /&gt;Marius had his hair short then, dipped military-Roman-style with a few modest&lt;br /&gt;curls on his forehead; his hair was long when he was later made a vampire, and&lt;br /&gt;he wears it long now, but then it was the typical boring Roman military cut. But&lt;br /&gt;it was blond and full of sunlight in the atrium, and he seemed the brightest and&lt;br /&gt;most impressive man I’d ever laid eyes upon. He was full of kindness when he&lt;br /&gt;looked at me.&lt;br /&gt;“Why are you so tall?” I asked him. My Father thought this was amusing, of&lt;br /&gt;course, and he did not care what anyone else thought of his dusty little&lt;br /&gt;daughter, hanging onto his arms and speaking to his honored company.&lt;br /&gt;“My precious one,” Marius said, "I’m tall because I’m a barbarian!” He laughed&lt;br /&gt;and was flirtatious when he laughed, with a deference to me as a little lady,&lt;br /&gt;which was rather rare.&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly he made his hands into claws and ran at me like a bear.&lt;br /&gt;I loved him instantly!&lt;br /&gt;"No, truly.” I said. “You can't be a barbarian. I know your Father and all your&lt;br /&gt;sisters; they live just down the hill. The family is always talking about you at&lt;br /&gt;the table, saying only nice things, of course.”&lt;br /&gt;“Of that I’m sure,” he said, breaking into laughter.&lt;br /&gt;I knew my Father was getting anxious.&lt;br /&gt;What I didn’t know was that a ten-year-old girl could be betrothed.&lt;br /&gt;Marius drew himself up and said in his gentle very fine voice, trained for&lt;br /&gt;public rhetoric as well as words of love, “I am descended through my mother from&lt;br /&gt;the Keltoi, little beauty, little muse. I come from the tall blond people of the&lt;br /&gt;North, the people of Gaul. My mother was a princess there, or so I am told. Do&lt;br /&gt;you know who they are?”&lt;br /&gt;I said of course I knew and began to recite verbatim from Julius Caesar’s&lt;br /&gt;account of conquering Gaul, or the land of the Keltoi: “All Gaul is made up of&lt;br /&gt;three parts...”&lt;br /&gt;Marius was quite genuinely impressed. So was everybody So I went on and on, “The&lt;br /&gt;Keltoi are separated from the Aquitani by the river Garonne, and the tribe of&lt;br /&gt;the Belgae by the rivers Marne and Seine –"&lt;br /&gt;My Father, being slightly embarrassed by this time, with his daughter glorying&lt;br /&gt;in attention, spoke up to gently assure everyone that I was his precious joy,&lt;br /&gt;and I was let to run wild, and please make nothing of it.&lt;br /&gt;And I said, being bold, and a born troublemaker, "Give my love to the great&lt;br /&gt;Ovid! Because I too wish he would come home to Rome.”&lt;br /&gt;I then rattled off several steamy lines of the Amores:&lt;br /&gt;She laughed and gave her best, whole hearted kisses, They’d shake the three&lt;br /&gt;pronged bolt from Jove’s hand. Torture to think that fellow got such good ones!&lt;br /&gt;I wish they hadn’t been of the same brand!&lt;br /&gt;All laughed, except my Father, and Marius went wild with delight, clapping his&lt;br /&gt;hands. That was all the encouragement I needed to rush at him now like a bear,&lt;br /&gt;as he had rushed at me, and to continue singing out Ovid’s hot words:&lt;br /&gt;What’s more these kisses were better than I’d taught her,&lt;br /&gt;She seemed possessed of knowledge that was new.&lt;br /&gt;They pleased too well – bad sign! Her tongue was in them,&lt;br /&gt;And my tongue was kissing too.&lt;br /&gt;My Father grabbed me by the small of my upper arm, and said, “That’s it, Lydia,&lt;br /&gt;wrap it up." And the men laughed all the harder, commiserating with him, and&lt;br /&gt;embracing him, and then laughing again.&lt;br /&gt;But I had to have one final victory over this team of adults.&lt;br /&gt;“Pray, Father,” I said, “let me finish with some wise and patriotic words which&lt;br /&gt;Ovid said:&lt;br /&gt;" 'I congratulate myself on not having arrived into the world until the present&lt;br /&gt;time. This age suits my taste.’ ”&lt;br /&gt;This seemed to astonish Marius more than to amuse him. But my Father gathered me&lt;br /&gt;close and said very dearly:&lt;br /&gt;“Lydia, Ovid wouldn’t say that now, and now you, for being such a... a scholar&lt;br /&gt;and philosopher in one, should assure your Father's dearest friends that you&lt;br /&gt;know full well Ovid was banished from Rome by Augustus for good reason and that&lt;br /&gt;he can never return home.”&lt;br /&gt;In other words, he was saying “Shut up about Ovid.”&lt;br /&gt;But Marius, undeterred, dropped on his knees before me, lean and handsome with&lt;br /&gt;mesmeric blue eyes, and he took my hand and kissed it and said, “I will give&lt;br /&gt;Ovid your love, little Lydia. But your Father is right. We must all agree with&lt;br /&gt;the Emperor’s censure. After all, we are Romans.” He then did the very strange&lt;br /&gt;thing of speaking to me purely as if I were an adult. “Augustus Caesar has given&lt;br /&gt;far more to Rome, I think, than anyone ever hoped. And he too is a poet. He&lt;br /&gt;wrote a poem called ‘Ajax’ and burnt it up himself because he said it wasn’t&lt;br /&gt;good.”&lt;br /&gt;I was having the time of my life. I would have run off with Marius then and&lt;br /&gt;there!&lt;br /&gt;But all I could do was dance around him as he went out of the vestibule and out&lt;br /&gt;the gate.&lt;br /&gt;I waved to him.&lt;br /&gt;He lingered. "Goodbye, little Lydia,” he said. He then spoke under his breath to&lt;br /&gt;my Father, and I heard my Father say:&lt;br /&gt;"You are out of your mind!”&lt;br /&gt;My Father turned his back on Marius, who gave me a sad smile and disappeared.&lt;br /&gt;“What did he mean? What happened?” I asked my Father. “What's the matter?”&lt;br /&gt;“Listen, Lydia,” said my Father. "Have you in all your readings come across the&lt;br /&gt;word ‘betrothed’?”&lt;br /&gt;“Yes, Father, of course.”&lt;br /&gt;“Well, that sort of wanderer and dreamer likes nothing better than to betroth&lt;br /&gt;himself to a young girl of ten because it means she is not old enough to marry&lt;br /&gt;and he has years of freedom, without the censure of the Emperor. They do it all&lt;br /&gt;the time.”&lt;br /&gt;“No, no, Father," I said. “I shall never forget him.”&lt;br /&gt;I think I forgot him the next day.&lt;br /&gt;I didn’t see Marius again for five years.&lt;br /&gt;I remember because I was fifteen, and should have been married and didn't want&lt;br /&gt;to be married at all. I had wriggled out of it year after year, feigning&lt;br /&gt;illness, madness, total uncontrollable fits. But time was running out on me. In&lt;br /&gt;fact I’d been eligible for marriage since I was twelve.&lt;br /&gt;At this time, we were all standing together at the foot of the Palatine Hill,&lt;br /&gt;watching a most sacrosanct ceremony – the Lupercalia – just one of so many&lt;br /&gt;festivals that were integral in Roman life.&lt;br /&gt;Now the Lupercalia was very important to us, though there's no way to relate its&lt;br /&gt;significance to a Christian’s concept of religion. It was pious to enjoy such a&lt;br /&gt;festival, to participate as a citizen and as a virtuous Roman.&lt;br /&gt;And besides it was a great pleasure.&lt;br /&gt;So I was there, not so far from the cave of the Lupercal, watching with other&lt;br /&gt;young women, as the two chosen men of that year were smeared with blood from a&lt;br /&gt;sacrifice of goats and then draped in the bleeding skins of the sacrificed&lt;br /&gt;animals. I couldn’t see all of this very well, but I had seen it many times, and&lt;br /&gt;when years before two of my brothers had run in this festival, I had pushed to&lt;br /&gt;the front to get a good look at it.&lt;br /&gt;On this occasion, I did have a fairly good view when each of the two young men&lt;br /&gt;took his own company and began his run around the base of the Palatine Hill. I&lt;br /&gt;moved forward because I was supposed to do it. The young men were hitting&lt;br /&gt;lightly on the arm of every young woman with a strip of goatskin, which was&lt;br /&gt;supposed to purify us. Render us fertile.&lt;br /&gt;I stepped forward and received the ceremonial blow, and then stepped back again,&lt;br /&gt;wishing I was a man and could run around the hill with the other men, not an&lt;br /&gt;unusual thought for me at any time in my mortal life.&lt;br /&gt;I had some sarcastic inner thoughts about “being purified," but by this age I&lt;br /&gt;behaved in public and would not on any account have humiliated my Father or my&lt;br /&gt;brothers.&lt;br /&gt;These strips of goatskin, as you know, David, are called Februa, and February&lt;br /&gt;comes from that word. So much for language and all the magic it unwittingly&lt;br /&gt;carries with it. Surely the Lupercalia had something to do with Romulus and&lt;br /&gt;Remus; perhaps it even echoed some ancient human sacrifice. After all, the young&lt;br /&gt;men’s heads were smeared with goat blood. It gives me shivers, because in&lt;br /&gt;Etruscan times, long before I was born, this might have been a far more cruel&lt;br /&gt;ceremony.&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps this was the occasion that Marius saw my arms. Because I was exposing&lt;br /&gt;them to this ceremonial lash, and was already, as you can see, much of a&lt;br /&gt;show-off in general, laughing with the others as the company of men continued&lt;br /&gt;their run.&lt;br /&gt;In the crowd, I saw Marius. He looked at me, then back to his book. So strange.&lt;br /&gt;I saw him standing against a tree trunk and writing. No one did this – stand&lt;br /&gt;against a tree, hold a book in one hand and write with the other. The slave&lt;br /&gt;stood beside him with a bottle of ink.&lt;br /&gt;Marius’s hair was long and most beautiful. Quite wild.&lt;br /&gt;I said to my Father, “Look, there’s our barbarian friend Marius, the tall one,&lt;br /&gt;and he’s writing."&lt;br /&gt;My Father smiled and said, “Marius is always writing. Marius is good for&lt;br /&gt;writing, if for nothing else. Turn around, Lydia. Be still.”&lt;br /&gt;"But he looked at me, Father. I want to talk to him."&lt;br /&gt;"You will not, Lydia! You will not grace him with one small smile!”&lt;br /&gt;On the way home, I asked my Father, "If you’re going to marry me to someone – if&lt;br /&gt;there’s no way short of suicide that I can avoid this disgusting development –&lt;br /&gt;why don’t you marry me to Marius? I don’t understand it. I’m rich. He’s rich. I&lt;br /&gt;know his Mother was a wild Keltoi princess, but his Father has adopted him."&lt;br /&gt;My Father said witheringly, "Where have you learned all this?” He stopped in his&lt;br /&gt;tracks, always an ominous sign. The crowd broke and streamed around.&lt;br /&gt;“I don't know; it’s common knowledge.” I turned. There was Marius hovering&lt;br /&gt;about, glancing at me. “Father," I said, “please let me speak to him.”&lt;br /&gt;My Father knelt down. Most of the crowd had gone on. “Lydia, I know this is&lt;br /&gt;dreadful for you. I have caved to every objection you have raised to your&lt;br /&gt;suitors. But believe you me, the Emperor himself would not approve of you&lt;br /&gt;marrying such a mad wandering historian as Marius! He has never served in the&lt;br /&gt;military, he cannot enter the Senate, it is quite impossible. When you marry,&lt;br /&gt;you will marry well.”&lt;br /&gt;As we walked away, I turned again, thinking only to pick Marius out from the&lt;br /&gt;others, but to my surprise he was stark still, looking at me. With his flowing&lt;br /&gt;hair, he much resembled the Vampire Lestat. He is taller than Lestat, but he has&lt;br /&gt;the same lithe build, the same very blue eyes and a muscular strength to him,&lt;br /&gt;and a squareness of face which is almost pretty.&lt;br /&gt;I pulled away from my Father and ran up to him.&lt;br /&gt;“Well, I wanted to marry you,” I said, “but my Father has said no.”&lt;br /&gt;I’ll never forget the expression on his face. But before he could speak, my&lt;br /&gt;Father had gathered me up and gone into obliterating respectable conversation:&lt;br /&gt;“How now, Marius, how goes it with your brother in the Army. And how is it with&lt;br /&gt;your history. I hear you have written thirteen volumes.”&lt;br /&gt;My Father backed up, virtually carrying me away.&lt;br /&gt;Marius did not move or answer. Soon we were with others hurrying up the hill.&lt;br /&gt;All the course of our lives was changed at that moment. But there was no&lt;br /&gt;conceivable way Marius or I could have known it.&lt;br /&gt;Twenty years would pass before we would meet again.&lt;br /&gt;I was thirty-five, then. I can say that we met in a realm of darkness in more&lt;br /&gt;respects than one.&lt;br /&gt;For now, let me fill up the gap.&lt;br /&gt;I was married twice, due to pressure from the Imperial House. Augustus wanted us&lt;br /&gt;all to have children. I had none. My husbands seeded plenty, however, with slave&lt;br /&gt;girls. So I was legally divorced and freed twice over, and determined then to&lt;br /&gt;retire from social life, just so the Emperor Tiberius, who had come to the&lt;br /&gt;Imperial throne at the age of fifty, would not meddle with me, for he was more a&lt;br /&gt;public puritan and domestic dictator than Augustus. If I kept to the house, if I&lt;br /&gt;didn’t go abroad to banquets and parties and hang around with the Empress Livia,&lt;br /&gt;Augustus’s wife and mother of Tiberius, perhaps I wouldn't be pushed into&lt;br /&gt;becoming a stepmother! I’d stay home. I had to care for my Father. He deserved&lt;br /&gt;it. Even though he was perfectly healthy, he was still old!&lt;br /&gt;With all due respect for the husbands I have mentioned, whose names are more&lt;br /&gt;than footnotes in common Roman histories, I was a wretched wife.&lt;br /&gt;I had plenty of my own money from my Father, I listened to nothing, and yielded&lt;br /&gt;to the act of love only on my own terms, which I always obtained; being gifted&lt;br /&gt;with enough beauty to make men really suffer.&lt;br /&gt;I became a member of the Cult of Isis just to spite these husbands and get away&lt;br /&gt;from them, so that I could hang around at the Temple of Isis, where I spent an&lt;br /&gt;enormous amount of time with other interesting women, some far more adventurous&lt;br /&gt;and unconventional than I dared to be. I was attracted to whores. I saw the&lt;br /&gt;brilliant, loose women as having conquered a barrier which I, the loving&lt;br /&gt;daughter of my Father, would never conquer.&lt;br /&gt;I became a regular at the Temple. I was initiated at last in a secret ceremony,&lt;br /&gt;and I walked in every procession of Isis in Rome.&lt;br /&gt;My husbands loathed this. Maybe that’s why after I came home to my Father I gave&lt;br /&gt;up the worship. Whatever, it was a good thing perhaps that I had. But fortune&lt;br /&gt;could not be so easily shaped by any decision of mine.&lt;br /&gt;Now Isis was an imported goddess, from Egypt, of course, and the old Romans were&lt;br /&gt;as suspicious of her as they were of the terrible Cybele, the Great other from&lt;br /&gt;the Far East, who led her male devotees to castrate themselves. The whole city&lt;br /&gt;was filled with these “Eastern cults,” and the conservative population thought&lt;br /&gt;them dreadful.&lt;br /&gt;These cults weren’t rational; they were ecstatic or euphoric. They offered a&lt;br /&gt;complete rebirth through understanding.&lt;br /&gt;The typical conservative Roman was far too practical for that. If you didn't&lt;br /&gt;know by age five that the gods were made-up creatures and the myths invented&lt;br /&gt;stories, then you were a fool.&lt;br /&gt;But Isis had a curious distinction – something that set her far apart from the&lt;br /&gt;cruel Cybele. Isis was a loving mother and goddess. Isis forgave her worshipers&lt;br /&gt;anything. Isis had come before all Creation. Isis was patient and wise.&lt;br /&gt;That’s why the most degraded woman could pray at the Temple. That's why none&lt;br /&gt;were ever turned away.&lt;br /&gt;Like the Blessed Virgin Mary, who is so well known today throughout the East and&lt;br /&gt;West, the Queen Isis had conceived her divine child by divine means. From the&lt;br /&gt;dead and castrated Osiris, she had drawn the living seed by her own power. And&lt;br /&gt;many a time she was pictured or sculpted holding her divine son, Horus, on her&lt;br /&gt;knee. Her breast was bare in all innocence to feed the young god.&lt;br /&gt;And Osiris ruled in the land of the dead, his phallus lost forever in the waters&lt;br /&gt;of the Nile, where an endless semen flowed from it, fertilizing the remarkable&lt;br /&gt;fields of Egypt every year when the River overflowed its banks.&lt;br /&gt;The music of our Temple was divine. We used the sistrum, a small rigid metal&lt;br /&gt;lyre of sorts, and flutes and timbrels. We danced, and we sang together. The&lt;br /&gt;poetry of Isis’s litanies was fine and rapturous.&lt;br /&gt;Isis was the Queen of Navigation, much like the Blessed Virgin Mary would be&lt;br /&gt;called later, “Our Lady Star of the Sea.”&lt;br /&gt;When her statue was carried to the shore each year, the procession was so&lt;br /&gt;splendid that all Rome turned out to see the Egyptian gods with their animal&lt;br /&gt;heads, the huge abundance of flowers and the statue of the Queen Mother herself.&lt;br /&gt;The air rang with hymns. Her Priests and Priestesses walked in white linen&lt;br /&gt;robes. She herself, made of marble, and carried high, holding her sacred&lt;br /&gt;sistrum, dressed regally in a Grecian gown with Grecian hair.&lt;br /&gt;That was my Isis. I fell away from her after my last divorce. My Father didn’t&lt;br /&gt;like the worship, and I myself had enjoyed it long enough. As a free woman, I&lt;br /&gt;wasn't infatuated with prostitutes. I had it infinitely better. I kept my&lt;br /&gt;Father’s house and he was just old enough, in spite of his black hair and his&lt;br /&gt;remarkably sharp vision, that the Emperor left me alone.&lt;br /&gt;I can’t say I remembered or thought of Marius. No one had mentioned Marius for&lt;br /&gt;years. He had disappeared out of my mind after the Lupercalia. There was no&lt;br /&gt;force on Earth that could come between me and my Father.&lt;br /&gt;My brothers all had good luck. They married well, had children and came home&lt;br /&gt;from the hard wars in which they fought, keeping the boundaries of the Empire.&lt;br /&gt;My youngest brother, Lucius, I did not like much, but he was always a little&lt;br /&gt;anxious and given to drinking and apparently also to gambling, which very much&lt;br /&gt;annoyed his wife.&lt;br /&gt;She I loved, as I did all my sisters-in-law and my nieces and nephews. I loved&lt;br /&gt;it when they descended upon the house, these flocks of children, squealing and&lt;br /&gt;running rampant with “Aunt Lydia’s blessing,” as they were never allowed to do&lt;br /&gt;at home.&lt;br /&gt;The eldest of my brothers, Antony, was in potential a great man. Fate robbed him&lt;br /&gt;of greatness. But he had been most ready for it, well schooled, trained and most&lt;br /&gt;wise.&lt;br /&gt;The only foolish thing I ever knew Antony to do was say to me very distinctly&lt;br /&gt;once that Livia, Augustus’s wife, had poisoned him so that her son, Tiberius,&lt;br /&gt;would rise. My Father, the only other occupant of the room, told him sternly:&lt;br /&gt;"Antony, never speak of that again! Not here, not anywhere!" My Father stood up,&lt;br /&gt;and without planning it, put in perspective the style of life which he and I&lt;br /&gt;lived, “Stay away from the Imperial Palace, stay away from the Imperial&lt;br /&gt;families, be in the front ranks of the games and always in the Senate, but don’t&lt;br /&gt;get into their quarrels and their intrigues!"&lt;br /&gt;Antony was very angry, but the anger had nothing to do with my Father. “I said&lt;br /&gt;it only to those two to whom I can say it, you and Lydia. I detest eating dinner&lt;br /&gt;with a woman who poisoned her husband! Augustus should have re-established the&lt;br /&gt;Republic. He knew when death was coming.”&lt;br /&gt;“Yes, and he knew that he could not restore the Republic. It was simply&lt;br /&gt;impossible. The Empire had grown to Britannia in the North, beyond Parthia in&lt;br /&gt;the East; it covers Northern Africa. If you want to be a good Roman, Antony,&lt;br /&gt;then stand up and speak your conscience in the Senate. Tiberius invites this.”&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, Father, you are much deceived,” said Antony.&lt;br /&gt;My Father put an end to this argument.&lt;br /&gt;But he and I did live exactly the life he had described.&lt;br /&gt;Tiberius was immediately unpopular with the noisy Roman crowds. He was too old,&lt;br /&gt;too dry, too humorless, too puritanical and tyrannical at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;But he had one saving grace. Other than his extensive love and knowledge of&lt;br /&gt;philosophy, he had been a very good soldier. And that was the most important&lt;br /&gt;characteristic the Emperor had to possess.&lt;br /&gt;The troops honored him.&lt;br /&gt;He strengthened the Praetorian Guard around the Palace, hired a man named&lt;br /&gt;Sejanus to run things for him. But he didn’t bring legions into Rome, and he&lt;br /&gt;spoke a damned good line about personal rights and freedom, that is, if you&lt;br /&gt;could stay awake to listen. I thought him a brooder.&lt;br /&gt;The Senate went mad with impatience when he refused to make decisions. They&lt;br /&gt;didn't want to make the decisions! But all this seemed relatively safe.&lt;br /&gt;Then a horrible incident occurred which made me positively detest the Emperor&lt;br /&gt;wholeheartedly and lose all my faith in the man and his ability to govern.&lt;br /&gt;This incident involved the Temple of Isis. Some clever evil man, claiming to be&lt;br /&gt;the Egyptian god Anubis, had enticed a highborn devotee of Isis to the Temple&lt;br /&gt;and gone to bed with her, fooling her completely, though how on Earth he did it&lt;br /&gt;I can’t imagine.&lt;br /&gt;I remember her to this day as the stupidest woman in Rome. But there’s probably&lt;br /&gt;more to it.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it had all happened at the Temple.&lt;br /&gt;And then this man, this fake Anubis, went before the highborn virtuous woman and&lt;br /&gt;told her in the plainest terms that he had had her! She went screaming to her&lt;br /&gt;husband. It was a scandal of extraordinary flair.&lt;br /&gt;It had been years since I had been at the Temple, and I was glad of it.&lt;br /&gt;But what followed from the Emperor was more dreadful than I ever dreamed.&lt;br /&gt;The entire Temple was razed to the very ground. All the worshipers were banished&lt;br /&gt;from Rome, and some of them executed. And our Priests and Priestesses were&lt;br /&gt;crucified, their bodies hung on the tree, as the old Roman expression goes, to&lt;br /&gt;die slowly, and to rot, for all to see.&lt;br /&gt;My Father came into my bedroom. He went to the small shrine of Isis. He took the&lt;br /&gt;statue and smashed it on the marble floor. Then he picked up the larger pieces&lt;br /&gt;and smashed each of them. He made dust of her.&lt;br /&gt;I nodded.&lt;br /&gt;I expected him to condemn me for my old habits. I was overcome with sadness and&lt;br /&gt;shock at what had happened. Other Eastern cults were being persecuted. The&lt;br /&gt;Emperor was moving to take away the right of Sanctuary from various Temples&lt;br /&gt;throughout the Empire.&lt;br /&gt;“The man doesn’t want to be Emperor of Rome,” said my Father. "He’s been bent by&lt;br /&gt;cruelty and losses. He’s stiff, boring and completely in terror for his life! A&lt;br /&gt;man who would not be Emperor cannot be Emperor. Not now.”&lt;br /&gt;"Maybe he’ll step down,” I said sadly. "He has adopted the young General&lt;br /&gt;Germanicus Julius Caesar. This means Germanicus is to be his heir, does it&lt;br /&gt;not'?”&lt;br /&gt;“What good did it do to the earlier heirs of Augustus when they were adopted?"&lt;br /&gt;my Father asked.&lt;br /&gt;"What do you mean?" I asked.&lt;br /&gt;“Use your head,” said my Father. “We cannot continue pretending we are a&lt;br /&gt;Republic. We must define the office of this Emperor and the limits of his power!&lt;br /&gt;We must outline a form of succession other than murder!”&lt;br /&gt;I tried to calm him.&lt;br /&gt;“Father, let's leave Rome. Let’s go to our house in Tuscany. It's always&lt;br /&gt;beautiful there, Father.”&lt;br /&gt;“That's just it, we can’t, Lydia," he said. “I have to remain here. I have to be&lt;br /&gt;loyal to my Emperor. I must do so for all my family. I must stand in the&lt;br /&gt;Senate."&lt;br /&gt;Within months, Tiberius sent off his young and handsome nephew Germanicus Julius&lt;br /&gt;Caesar to the East, just to get him away from the adulation of the Roman public.&lt;br /&gt;As I said, people spoke their minds.&lt;br /&gt;Germanicus was supposed to be Tiberius’s heir! But Tiberius was too jealous to&lt;br /&gt;listen to the crowds screaming praise of Germanicus for his victories in battle.&lt;br /&gt;He wanted the man far from Rome.&lt;br /&gt;And so this rather charming and seductive young general went to the East, to&lt;br /&gt;Syria; he vanished from the loving eyes of the Roman people, from the core of&lt;br /&gt;the Empire where a city crowd could determine the fate of the world.&lt;br /&gt;Sooner or later there would be another campaign in the North, we all figured.&lt;br /&gt;Germanicus had hit hard at the German tribes in his last campaign.&lt;br /&gt;My brothers vividly described it to me over the dinner table,&lt;br /&gt;They told how they had gone back to avenge the hideous massacre of General Varus&lt;br /&gt;and his troops in the Teutoburg Forest. They could finish the job, if called up&lt;br /&gt;again, and my brothers would go. They were exactly the kind of old-fashioned&lt;br /&gt;patricians who would go!&lt;br /&gt;Meantime there were rumors that the Delatores, the notorious spies of the&lt;br /&gt;Praetorian Guard, pocketed one-third of the estate of those against whom they&lt;br /&gt;informed. I found it horrible. My Father shook his head, and said, “That started&lt;br /&gt;under Augustus.”&lt;br /&gt;“Yes, Father," I said, "but then treason was considered a matter of what one&lt;br /&gt;did, not what one said.”&lt;br /&gt;“Which is all the more reason to say nothing.” He sat back wearily. “Lydia, sing&lt;br /&gt;to me. Get your lyre. Make up one of your comic epics. It’s been a long time.”&lt;br /&gt;"I’m too old for that,” I said, thinking of the silly, bawdy satires on Homer&lt;br /&gt;which I used to make up so quickly and freely that everyone marveled. But I&lt;br /&gt;jumped at that idea. I remember that night so palpably that I cannot tear myself&lt;br /&gt;loose now from the writing of this story, even though I know what pain I must&lt;br /&gt;confess and explore.&lt;br /&gt;What does it mean to write? David, you’ll see this question repeated, because&lt;br /&gt;with each page I understand more and more – I see the patterns that have before&lt;br /&gt;eluded me, and driven me to dream rather than live.&lt;br /&gt;That night I did make a very funny epic. My Father laughed. He fell asleep on&lt;br /&gt;his couch. And then, as if from a trance state, he spoke, “Lydia, don't live out&lt;br /&gt;your life alone on account of me. Marry for love! You must not give up!"&lt;br /&gt;By the time I turned around, he was breathing deeply again,&lt;br /&gt;Two weeks later, or maybe it was a month, our life came abruptly to an end.&lt;br /&gt;I came home one day, found the house completely empty except for two terrified&lt;br /&gt;old slave men – men who actually belonged to the household of my brother Antony&lt;br /&gt;– who let me in and bolted the door ferociously.&lt;br /&gt;I walked through the huge vestibule and then into the peristyle and into the&lt;br /&gt;dining room. I beheld an amazing sight.&lt;br /&gt;My Father was in full battle dress, armed with sword and dagger, lacking only&lt;br /&gt;his shield. He even wore his red cloak. His breastplate was polished and&lt;br /&gt;gleaming.&lt;br /&gt;He stared at the floor and with reason. It had been dug up. The old Hearth from&lt;br /&gt;generations ago had been dug up. This had been the first room of this house in&lt;br /&gt;the very ancient days of Rome, and it was around this Hearth that the family&lt;br /&gt;gathered, worshiped, dined.&lt;br /&gt;I had never even seen it, We had our household Shrines, but this, this giant&lt;br /&gt;circle of burnt stones! There were actually ashes there, uncovered. How ominous&lt;br /&gt;and sacred it appeared.&lt;br /&gt;“What in the name of the gods is going on?" I asked. "Where is everybody?”&lt;br /&gt;"They are gone,” he said. “I have freed the slaves, sent them packing. I’ve been&lt;br /&gt;waiting for you. You have to leave here now!”&lt;br /&gt;“Not without you!”&lt;br /&gt;“You will not disobey me, Lydia!” I had never seen such an imploring yet&lt;br /&gt;dignified expression in his face. "There's a wagon out back, ready to take you&lt;br /&gt;to the coast, and a Jewish merchant who is my most trusted friend who will take&lt;br /&gt;you by ship out of Italy! I want you to go! Your money’s been loaded on board&lt;br /&gt;the ship. Your clothing. Everything. These are men I trust. Nevertheless take&lt;br /&gt;this dagger.”&lt;br /&gt;He picked up a dagger from the nearby table and gave it to me. “You’ve watched&lt;br /&gt;your brothers enough to know how to use it,” he said, “and this.” He reached for&lt;br /&gt;a sack. "This is gold, the currency that all the world accepts. Take it and go.”&lt;br /&gt;I always carried a dagger, and it was in the sling on my forearm but I could not&lt;br /&gt;shock him with this just now, so I put the dagger in my girdle and took the&lt;br /&gt;purse.&lt;br /&gt;“Father, I'm not afraid to stand by you! Who’s turned on us? Father, you are&lt;br /&gt;Senator of Rome. Accused of any crime, you are entitled to a trial before the&lt;br /&gt;Senate.”&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, my precious quick-witted daughter! You think that evil Sejanus and his&lt;br /&gt;Delatores bring charges out in the open? His Speculatores have already surprised&lt;br /&gt;your brothers and their wives and children. These are Antony’s slaves. He sent&lt;br /&gt;them to warn me as he fought, as he died. He saw his son dashed against the&lt;br /&gt;wall. Lydia, go.”&lt;br /&gt;Of course I knew this was a Roman custom – to murder the entire family, to wipe&lt;br /&gt;out the spouse and offspring of the condemned. It was even the law. And in&lt;br /&gt;matters such as this, when word got out that the Emperor had turned his back on&lt;br /&gt;a man, any of his enemies could precede the assassins.&lt;br /&gt;“You come with me,” I said. “Why do you stay here?”&lt;br /&gt;“I will die a Roman in my house,” he said. "Now go if you love me, my poet, my&lt;br /&gt;singer, my thinker. My Lydia. Go! I will not be disobeyed. I have spent the last&lt;br /&gt;hour of my life arranging for your salvation! Kiss me and obey me.”&lt;br /&gt;I ran to him, kissed him on the lips and at once the slaves led me through the&lt;br /&gt;garden.&lt;br /&gt;I knew my Father. I could not revolt against him in this final wish. I knew&lt;br /&gt;that, in old-fashioned Roman style, he would probably take his life before the&lt;br /&gt;Speculatores broke down the front door.&lt;br /&gt;When I reached the gate, when I saw the Hebrew merchants and their wagon, I&lt;br /&gt;couldn’t go.&lt;br /&gt;This is what I saw.&lt;br /&gt;My Father had cut both his wrists and was walking around the household hearth in&lt;br /&gt;a circle, letting the blood flow right down onto the floor. He had really given&lt;br /&gt;his wrists the slash. He was turning white as he walked. In his eyes there was&lt;br /&gt;an expression I would only come to understand later.&lt;br /&gt;There came a loud crash. The front door was being bashed in. My Father stopped&lt;br /&gt;quite still. And two of the Praetorian Guard came at him, one making sneering&lt;br /&gt;remarks, “Why don’t you finish yourself off, Maximus, and save us the trouble.&lt;br /&gt;Go on.”&lt;br /&gt;“Are you proud of yourselves!” my Father said. “Cowards. You like killing whole&lt;br /&gt;families? How much money do you get? Did you ever fight in a true battle. Come&lt;br /&gt;on, die with me!"&lt;br /&gt;Turning his back on them, he whipped around with sword and dagger, and brought&lt;br /&gt;down both of them, as they came at him, with unanticipated thrusts. He stabbed&lt;br /&gt;them repeatedly.&lt;br /&gt;My Father wobbled as if he would faint. He was white. The blood flowed and&lt;br /&gt;flowed from his wrists. His eyes rolled up into his head.&lt;br /&gt;Mad schemes came to me. We must get him into the wagon. But a Roman like my&lt;br /&gt;Father would never have cooperated.&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly the Hebrews, one young and one elderly, had me by the arms and were&lt;br /&gt;carrying me out of the house.&lt;br /&gt;“I vowed I would save you,” said the old man. “And you will not make a liar of&lt;br /&gt;me to my old friend.”&lt;br /&gt;"Let go of me!” I whispered. “I will see him through it!”&lt;br /&gt;Throwing them off in their polite timidity I turned and saw from a great&lt;br /&gt;distance my Father’s body by the hearth. He had finished himself with his own&lt;br /&gt;dagger.&lt;br /&gt;I was thrown into the wagon, my eyes dosed, my hands over my mouth. I fell among&lt;br /&gt;soft pillows, bolts of fabric, tumbling as the wagon began to roll very slowly&lt;br /&gt;down the winding road of the Palatine Hill.&lt;br /&gt;Soldiers shouted at us to get the hell out of the way.&lt;br /&gt;The elderly Hebrew said, “I am nearly deaf, sir, what did you say?"&lt;br /&gt;It worked perfectly. They rode past us.&lt;br /&gt;The Hebrew knew exactly what he was doing. As crowds rushed past us he kept to&lt;br /&gt;his slow pace.&lt;br /&gt;The one young one came into the back of the wagon. “My name is Jacob,” he said.&lt;br /&gt;“Here, put on all these white mantles. You look now like an Eastern woman. If&lt;br /&gt;questioned at the gate, hold up your veil and pretend you do not understand.”&lt;br /&gt;We went through the Gates of Rome with amazing ease. It was “Hail David and&lt;br /&gt;Jacob, has it been a good trip?”&lt;br /&gt;I was helped aboard a large merchant vessel, with galley slaves and sails,&lt;br /&gt;nothing unusual at all, and then into a small barren wooden room.&lt;br /&gt;“This is all we have for you," said Jacob. "But we are sailing now.” He had long&lt;br /&gt;wavy brown hair and a beard. He wore striped robes to the ground.&lt;br /&gt;“In the dark?” I asked. "Sailing in the dark?”&lt;br /&gt;This was not usual.&lt;br /&gt;But as we moved out, as the oars began to dip, and the ship found its proper&lt;br /&gt;distance and began to move South, I saw what we were doing.&lt;br /&gt;All the beautiful Southwestern coast of Italy was well lighted by her hundreds&lt;br /&gt;and hundreds of palatial villas. Lighthouses stood on the rocks.&lt;br /&gt;“We will never see the Republic again," said Jacob wearily, as though he were a&lt;br /&gt;Roman citizen, which I think in fact he was. “But your Father‘s last wish is&lt;br /&gt;fulfilled. We are safe now."&lt;br /&gt;The old man stepped up to me. He told me that his name was David.&lt;br /&gt;The old man apologized profusely that there were no female attendants for me. I&lt;br /&gt;was the only woman on board.&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, please, banish any such thoughts from your mind! Why have you taken these&lt;br /&gt;risks?”&lt;br /&gt;"For years we have done business with your Father,” said David. "Years ago, when&lt;br /&gt;pirates sank our ships, your Father carried the debt. He trusted us again, and&lt;br /&gt;we repaid him fivefold. He has laid up riches for you. They are all stowed,&lt;br /&gt;among cargo we carried, as if they were nothing."&lt;br /&gt;I went into the cabin and collapsed on the small bed. The old man, averting his&lt;br /&gt;eyes, brought a cover for me.&lt;br /&gt;Slowly I realized something. I had fully expected them to betray me.&lt;br /&gt;I had no words. I had no gestures or sentiments inside me. I turned my head to&lt;br /&gt;the wall. "Sleep, lady,” he said.&lt;br /&gt;A nightmare came to me, a dream such as I have never had in my life. I was near&lt;br /&gt;a river. I wanted to drink blood. I waited in high grass to catch one of the&lt;br /&gt;villagers, and when I had this poor man, I took him by his shoulders, and I sank&lt;br /&gt;two fang teeth into his neck. My mouth filled with delicious blood. It was too&lt;br /&gt;sweet and too potent to be described, and even in the dream I knew it. But I had&lt;br /&gt;to move on. The man was nearly dead. I let him fall. Others who were more&lt;br /&gt;dangerous were after me. And there was another terrible threat to my life.&lt;br /&gt;I came to the ruins of a Temple, far from the marsh. Here it was desert – just&lt;br /&gt;with the snap of the fingers, from wetland to sand. I was afraid. Morning was&lt;br /&gt;coming. I had to hide. Besides, I was also being hunted. I digested this&lt;br /&gt;delicious blood, and I entered the Temple. No place to hide! I lay my whole body&lt;br /&gt;on the cold walls! They were graven with pictures. But there was no small room,&lt;br /&gt;no hiding place for me.&lt;br /&gt;I had to make it to the hills before sunrise, but that wasn’t possible. I was&lt;br /&gt;moving right towards the sun!&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, there came above the hills a great fatal light. My eyes hurt&lt;br /&gt;unbearably. They were on fire. “My eyes," I cried and reached to cover them.&lt;br /&gt;Fire covered me. I screamed. “Amon Ra, I curse you!" I cried another name. I&lt;br /&gt;knew it meant Isis, but it was not that name, it was another title for her that&lt;br /&gt;flew from my lips.&lt;br /&gt;I woke up. I sat bolt upright, shivering.&lt;br /&gt;The dream had been as sharply defined as a vision. It had a deep resonance in me&lt;br /&gt;of memory. Had I lived before?&lt;br /&gt;I went out on the deck of the ship. All was well enough. We could see the&lt;br /&gt;coastline dearly still, and the lighthouses, and the ship moved on. I stared at&lt;br /&gt;the sea, and I wanted blood.&lt;br /&gt;“This is not possible. This is some evil omen, some twisted grief,” I said. I&lt;br /&gt;felt the fire. I could not shut out the taste of the blood, how natural it had&lt;br /&gt;seemed, how good, how perfect for my thirst. I saw the twisted body of the&lt;br /&gt;villager again in the marshes.&lt;br /&gt;This was a horror; it was no escape from what I had just witnessed. I was&lt;br /&gt;incensed, and feverish.&lt;br /&gt;Jacob, the tall young one, came to me. He had with him a young Roman. The young&lt;br /&gt;man had shaved his first beard, but otherwise he seemed a flushed and glistening&lt;br /&gt;child.&lt;br /&gt;I wondered wearily if I were so old at thirty-five that everyone young looked&lt;br /&gt;beautiful to me.&lt;br /&gt;He cried, “My family, too, has been betrayed. My Mother made me leave!”&lt;br /&gt;“To whom do we owe this shared catastrophe'?" I asked. I put my hands on his wet&lt;br /&gt;cheeks. He had a baby’s mouth, but the shaven beard was rough. He had broad&lt;br /&gt;strong shoulders, and wore only a light, simple tunic. Why wasn't he cold out&lt;br /&gt;here on the water? Perhaps he was.&lt;br /&gt;He shook his head. He was pretty still and would be handsome later. He had a&lt;br /&gt;nice curl to his dark hair. He didn’t fear his tears, or apologize for them.&lt;br /&gt;"My Mother stayed alive to tell me. She lay gasping until I came. When the&lt;br /&gt;Delatores had told my Father that he plotted against the Emperor, my Father had&lt;br /&gt;laughed. He had actually laughed. They had accused him of plotting with&lt;br /&gt;Germanicus! My Mother wouldn’t die until she'd told me. She said that all my&lt;br /&gt;Father was accused of doing was talking with other men about how he would serve&lt;br /&gt;under Germanicus again if they were sent North.”&lt;br /&gt;I nodded wearily. “I see. My brothers probably said the same thing. And&lt;br /&gt;Germanicus is the Emperor’s heir and Imperium Maius of the East. Yet this is&lt;br /&gt;treason, to speak of serving Rome under a pretty general.”&lt;br /&gt;I turned to go. To understand gave no consolation.&lt;br /&gt;“We are taking you to different cities,” said Jacob, “to different friends.&lt;br /&gt;Better that we not say.”&lt;br /&gt;"Don’t leave me,” said the boy. “Not tonight.”&lt;br /&gt;“All right,” I said. I took him into the cabin and closed the door, with a&lt;br /&gt;polite nod to Jacob, who was watching all with a guardian’s conscience.&lt;br /&gt;“What do you want?” I asked.&lt;br /&gt;The boy stared at me. He shook his head. He flung his hands out. He turned and&lt;br /&gt;drew dose to me and kissed me. We went into a rampage of kisses.&lt;br /&gt;I took off my shift and sank into the bed with him. He was a man all right,&lt;br /&gt;tender face or no.&lt;br /&gt;And when I came to the moment of ecstasy, which was quite easy, given his&lt;br /&gt;phenomenal stamina, I tasted blood. I was the blood drinker in the dream. I went&lt;br /&gt;limp, but it didn’t matter. He had all he needed to finish the rites to his&lt;br /&gt;satisfaction.&lt;br /&gt;He rose up. “You’re a goddess," he said.&lt;br /&gt;“No,” I whispered. The dream was rising. I heard the wind on the sand. I smelled&lt;br /&gt;the river. “I am a god... a god who drinks blood.”&lt;br /&gt;We did the rites of love until we could do them no more.&lt;br /&gt;"Be circumspect and very proper with our Hebrew hosts," I said. “They will never&lt;br /&gt;understand this sort of thing.”&lt;br /&gt;He nodded. “I adore you.”&lt;br /&gt;"Not necessary. What is your name'?”&lt;br /&gt;“Marcellus.”&lt;br /&gt;“Fine, Marcellus, go to sleep.”&lt;br /&gt;Marcellus and I made a night of every night after that until we finally saw the&lt;br /&gt;famous lighthouse of Pharos and knew we had come to Egypt.&lt;br /&gt;It was perfectly obvious that Marcellus was being left in Alexandria. He&lt;br /&gt;explained to me that his maternal grandmother was still alive, a Greek, and&lt;br /&gt;indeed her whole dan.&lt;br /&gt;“Don’t tell me so much, just go,” I said. "And be wise and safe.”&lt;br /&gt;He begged me to come with him. He said he had fallen in love with me. He would&lt;br /&gt;marry me. He didn’t care if I bore no children. He didn’t care that I was&lt;br /&gt;thirty-five. I laughed softly, mercifully.&lt;br /&gt;Jacob noted all this with lowered eyes. And David looked away.&lt;br /&gt;Quite a few trunks followed Marcellus into Alexandria.&lt;br /&gt;“Now," I said to Jacob, “will you tell me where I’m being taken? I might have&lt;br /&gt;some thoughts on the matter, though I doubt I could improve on my Father's&lt;br /&gt;plan.”&lt;br /&gt;I still wondered. Would they deal honestly with me? What about now that they had&lt;br /&gt;seen me play the whore with the boy? They were such religious men.&lt;br /&gt;"You’re headed to a great city," Jacob said. “It couldn’t be a better place.&lt;br /&gt;Your Father has Greek friends there!"&lt;br /&gt;“How could it be better than Alexandria?” I said.&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, it is far and away better,” Jacob said. “Let me talk to my Father before I&lt;br /&gt;talk to you further.”&lt;br /&gt;We had put out to sea. The land was going away. Egypt. It was growing dark.&lt;br /&gt;“Don’t be afraid,” Jacob said. “You look as though you are terrified.”&lt;br /&gt;“I’m not afraid,” I said. “It’s only that I have to lie in my bed and think and&lt;br /&gt;remember and dream.” I looked at him, as he shyly looked away. “I held the boy&lt;br /&gt;like a Mother, against me, night after night.”&lt;br /&gt;This was about the biggest lie I've told in my life.&lt;br /&gt;“He was a child in my arms." Some child! “And now I fear nightmares. You must&lt;br /&gt;tell me – what is our destination? What is our fate?”&lt;br /&gt;3&lt;br /&gt;Antioch,” said Jacob, “Antioch on the Orontes. Greek friends of your Father&lt;br /&gt;await you. And they are friends with Germanicus. Perhaps in time ... but they&lt;br /&gt;will be loyal to you. You are to be married to a Greek of breeding and means."&lt;br /&gt;Married! To a Greek, a provincial Greek? A Greek in Asia! I stifled my laughter&lt;br /&gt;and my tears. That was not going to happen to me. Poor man! If he really was a&lt;br /&gt;provincial Greek, he was going to have to experience the conquest of Rome all&lt;br /&gt;over again.&lt;br /&gt;We sailed on, from port to port. I mulled all this over.&lt;br /&gt;It was nauseating trivia like this which of course protected me from my full and&lt;br /&gt;inevitable grief and shock over what happened. Worry about whether your dress is&lt;br /&gt;properly girdled. Don’t see your Father lying dead with his own dagger in his&lt;br /&gt;chest.&lt;br /&gt;As for Antioch, I had been far too embroiled in the life of Rome to know or hear&lt;br /&gt;much about this city. If Tiberius had stationed his “heir,” Germanicus, there to&lt;br /&gt;get him away from Roman popularity, then I thought: Antioch must be the end of&lt;br /&gt;the civilized world.&lt;br /&gt;Why in the name of the gods had I not run away in Alexandria, I thought?&lt;br /&gt;Alexandria was the greatest city in the Empire, next to Rome. It was a young&lt;br /&gt;city, built by Alexander, for whom it was named, but it was a marvelous port. No&lt;br /&gt;one would ever dare raze the Temple of Isis in Alexandria. Isis was an Egyptian&lt;br /&gt;goddess, wife of the powerful Osiris.&lt;br /&gt;But what had that to do with things? I must have been plotting in the back of my&lt;br /&gt;mind already, but I didn’t allow any conscious plot to surface and blemish my&lt;br /&gt;highborn Roman moral character.&lt;br /&gt;I quietly thanked my Hebrew guardians for this intelligence, for keeping it even&lt;br /&gt;from the young Roman Marcellus, the other man they had rescued from the&lt;br /&gt;Emperor's assassins, and I asked for frank answers to my questions regarding my&lt;br /&gt;brothers.&lt;br /&gt;“All taken by surprise,” said Jacob. “The Delatores, those spies of the&lt;br /&gt;Praetorian Guard, are so swift. And your Father had so many sons. It was your&lt;br /&gt;eldest brother’s slaves who jumped the wall at their Master’s command and ran to&lt;br /&gt;warn your Father.”&lt;br /&gt;Antony. I hope you shed their blood. I know you fought with your last breath.&lt;br /&gt;And my niece, my little niece Flora, had she run screaming from them, or did&lt;br /&gt;they do it with mercy'? The Praetorian Guard doing anything with mercy! Stupid&lt;br /&gt;to even think so.&lt;br /&gt;I didn’t say anything aloud. Just sighed.&lt;br /&gt;After all, when they looked at me, these two Jewish merchants beheld the body&lt;br /&gt;and face of a woman; naturally my protectors should think a woman was inside of&lt;br /&gt;me. The disparity between outward appearances and inner disposition had&lt;br /&gt;disturbed me all my life. Why disturb Jacob and David? On to Antioch.&lt;br /&gt;But I had no intention of living in any oldfashioned Greek family, if such still&lt;br /&gt;existed in the Greek city of Antioch, a family in which women lived apart from&lt;br /&gt;the men, and wove wool all day, never going out, having no part in the life of&lt;br /&gt;the world whatsoever.&lt;br /&gt;I’d been taught all the virtuous female arts by my nurses and I could indeed do&lt;br /&gt;anything with yarn or thread or loom that any other woman could do, but I knew&lt;br /&gt;well what the “Old Greek Ways” had been, and I remembered vaguely my Father’s&lt;br /&gt;Mother, who had died when I was very young – a virtuous Roman matron who was&lt;br /&gt;always making wool. So they had said of her in her Epitaph, and in fact, they&lt;br /&gt;had said in my Mother’s Epitaph: “She kept the House. She made wool.”&lt;br /&gt;And so they had said of my Mother! The very same tiresome words.&lt;br /&gt;Well, no one was going to say that on mine. (How humorous to reflect on the fact&lt;br /&gt;now, thousands of years later, that I have no Epitaph!)&lt;br /&gt;What I failed to realize in my overall dejection was that the Roman world was&lt;br /&gt;enormous, and the Eastern portion of it differed dramatically from the Northern&lt;br /&gt;barbarian lands, where my brothers had fought.&lt;br /&gt;The entire of Asia Minor, towards which we sailed, had been conquered by&lt;br /&gt;Alexander of Macedon hundreds of years before. As you know, Alexander had been&lt;br /&gt;the pupil of Aristotle. Alexander had wanted to spread Greek culture everywhere.&lt;br /&gt;And in Asia Minor Greek ideas and styles found not mere country towns or&lt;br /&gt;farmers, but ancient cultures, like the Empire of Syria, willing to receive the&lt;br /&gt;new ideas, the grace and beauty of the Greek enlightenment, and willing to bring&lt;br /&gt;in tune with it their own centuries-old literature, religion, styles of life and&lt;br /&gt;dress.&lt;br /&gt;Antioch had been built by a general of Alexander the Great who sought to rival&lt;br /&gt;the beauty of other Hellenistic cities, with splendid Temples, administrative&lt;br /&gt;buildings and libraries of books in the Greek language, its schools where Greek&lt;br /&gt;philosophy was taught. A Hellenistic government was established – quite&lt;br /&gt;enlightened compared to ancient Eastern despotism, and yet there lay beneath all&lt;br /&gt;this the knowledge and customs and possibly the wisdom of the mysterious East.&lt;br /&gt;The Romans had conquered Antioch early on because it was a huge trade center. It&lt;br /&gt;was unique in this way, as Jacob showed to me, drawing a crude map with his wet&lt;br /&gt;finger on the wooden table. Antioch was a port of the great Mediterranean&lt;br /&gt;because she was only twenty miles up the Orontes River.&lt;br /&gt;Yet on the Eastern side she was open to the desert: all the old caravan routes&lt;br /&gt;came to Antioch, the camel merchants who brought fantastic wares from fabled&lt;br /&gt;lands – lands we know now to have been India and China – silk, carpet and jewels&lt;br /&gt;which never reached the markets of Rome.&lt;br /&gt;Countless other traders came and went to Antioch. Fine roads connected it in the&lt;br /&gt;East with the Euphrates River and the Parthian Empire beyond, and to the South&lt;br /&gt;you could go to Damascus and Judea, and to the North, of course, lay all the&lt;br /&gt;cities made by Alexander, which had flowered under Roman rule.&lt;br /&gt;Roman soldiers loved it there. It was an easy and interesting life. And Antioch&lt;br /&gt;loved the Romans because the Romans protected the trade routes, and the&lt;br /&gt;caravans, and kept peace in the port.&lt;br /&gt;"You will find open places, arcades, Temples, all that you seek and such markets&lt;br /&gt;you would not believe. There are Romans everywhere. I hope to One Most High that&lt;br /&gt;you are not recognized by someone from your own background! That is one danger&lt;br /&gt;of which your Father had no time to plan.”&lt;br /&gt;I waved it away.&lt;br /&gt;“Does it have teachers now, and markets of books?”&lt;br /&gt;"From everywhere. You will find books which no one can read. And Greek is spoken&lt;br /&gt;by everyone. You have to go out in the country to find some poor farmer who does&lt;br /&gt;not understand Greek. Latin has now become common.&lt;br /&gt;“The philosophers never stop; they speak of Plato and Pythagoras, names that&lt;br /&gt;don’t mean much to me; they talk about Chaldean magic from Babylon. Of course&lt;br /&gt;there are Temples to every imaginable god.”&lt;br /&gt;He went on, reflecting as he spoke:&lt;br /&gt;“The Hebrews? I think personally they are too worldly – they want to hang around&lt;br /&gt;in short tunics with the Greeks and go to the public baths. They are too&lt;br /&gt;interested in the Greek philosophy. It invades everything, all this thinking&lt;br /&gt;that Greeks did. Not good. But a Greek city is an inviting world.”&lt;br /&gt;He glanced up. His Father was watching over us, and we were too dose together,&lt;br /&gt;at this table on the deck.&lt;br /&gt;He hastily filled me in on other facts:&lt;br /&gt;Germanicus Julius Caesar, heir to the Imperial throne, the official adopted son&lt;br /&gt;of Tiberius, had been granted the Imperium Maius in Antioch. That is, he&lt;br /&gt;controlled all of this territory. And Gnaeus Calpurnius Piso was the governor of&lt;br /&gt;Syria.&lt;br /&gt;I assured him that they would know nothing of me or my old-fashioned family or&lt;br /&gt;our quiet, old house on the Palatine Hill, squeezed between so many other&lt;br /&gt;extravagant new mansions.&lt;br /&gt;“It’s all Roman-style,” Jacob protested. “You’ll see. And you come with money!&lt;br /&gt;And forgive me, but you are still beautiful at your age; you have fresh skin and&lt;br /&gt;you move your limbs like a girl.”&lt;br /&gt;I sighed and gave Jacob thanks. Time for him to break away unless we wanted his&lt;br /&gt;Father coming down upon us.&lt;br /&gt;I watched the ever rolling blue waves.&lt;br /&gt;I was thankful in secret that our family had withdrawn from the parties and&lt;br /&gt;banquets at the Imperial Palace, but then I blamed myself for such thankfulness,&lt;br /&gt;knowing that our reclusiveness must have paved the way for our downfall.&lt;br /&gt;I’d seen Germanicus on his triumphal procession through Rome, a gorgeous young&lt;br /&gt;man, much as Alexander had been, and I knew from my Father and my brothers that&lt;br /&gt;Tiberius, fearing the popularity of his appointed heir, had sent him off to the&lt;br /&gt;East to get him away from the Roman crowds.&lt;br /&gt;The Governor Piso? I had never laid eyes on him. The gossip was that he was sent&lt;br /&gt;East to devil Germanicus. Oh, such a waste of talent and thought.&lt;br /&gt;Jacob returned to me.&lt;br /&gt;“Well, you go nameless and unknown into this vast city," said Jacob. “And you&lt;br /&gt;have protectors of high character who are beloved of Germanicus. He’s young and&lt;br /&gt;sets a tone of vitality and gaiety in the city."&lt;br /&gt;“And Piso?” I asked.&lt;br /&gt;“Everyone hates him. Especially the soldiers, and you know what that means in a&lt;br /&gt;Roman province.”&lt;br /&gt;You can look at the crashing, undulating sea from the railing of a deck forever,&lt;br /&gt;or just for so long.&lt;br /&gt;That night I had my second blood dream. It was keenly similar to the first. I&lt;br /&gt;was thirsty for blood. And enemies were after me, enemies that knew I was a&lt;br /&gt;demon and must be destroyed. I was running. My own kind had forsaken me, thrust&lt;br /&gt;me out unprotected to the superstitions of the people. Then I saw the desert and&lt;br /&gt;knew I would die; I awoke, sitting up and crying out, but covering my mouth&lt;br /&gt;quickly so no one heard it.&lt;br /&gt;What disturbed me so terribly was the thirst for blood. I could not imagine such&lt;br /&gt;a thing when I was awake, but in these dreams I was the monster that Romans&lt;br /&gt;called the Lamia. Or so it seemed. Blood was sweet, blood was all. Was the old&lt;br /&gt;Greek Pythagoras right? Souls do migrate from body to body? But my soul in this&lt;br /&gt;past life had been that of a monster.&lt;br /&gt;During the day, I dosed my eyes now and then and found myself dangerously on the&lt;br /&gt;edge of the dream, as if it were a trap in my mind, waiting to engulf my&lt;br /&gt;consciousness. But at night, that is when they came most strongly. You have&lt;br /&gt;served me before! What could this mean? Come to me.&lt;br /&gt;Blood thirst. I closed my eyes, curled up in bed and prayed, “Mother Isis,&lt;br /&gt;Cleanse my Mind of this Blood madness.”&lt;br /&gt;Then I resorted to plain old ordinary eroticism. Get Jacob into bed! No such&lt;br /&gt;luck. Little did I know that Hebrews had been, and would be forever, the most&lt;br /&gt;difficult of men to seduce!&lt;br /&gt;It was all made dear with great grace and tact.&lt;br /&gt;I considered all the slaves. Out of the question. First off were the galley&lt;br /&gt;slaves, among whom no great "Ben Hur” was chained, waiting for me to rescue him.&lt;br /&gt;They were just the dregs of the criminal poor, fastened Roman-style, so they&lt;br /&gt;would drown if the ship went down, and they were dying, as all galley slaves do&lt;br /&gt;from the monotony and the whip. It wasn’t a pleasant sight to go down into the&lt;br /&gt;hold of a galley ship and see those men bending their backs.&lt;br /&gt;But my eyes were as cold as those of an American watching color television&lt;br /&gt;pictures of the starving babies of Africa, little black skeletons with big heads&lt;br /&gt;screaming for water. News Break, Commercial Break, Sound Bite, CNN now switches&lt;br /&gt;to Palestine: rock throwing, rubber bullets. Television blood.&lt;br /&gt;The rest on board were boring sailors, and two old pious merchant Hebrews who&lt;br /&gt;stared at me as if I were a whore, or worse, and turned their heads whenever I&lt;br /&gt;came out on deck in my long tunic with my long hair swinging free.&lt;br /&gt;Such a disgrace I must have seemed! But what a fool I was then, really, living&lt;br /&gt;in numbness, and how pleasant that voyage – all because true grief and rage had&lt;br /&gt;not yet taken hold of me. Things had happened too fast.&lt;br /&gt;I gloated over my last glimpse of my Father dispatching those soldiers of&lt;br /&gt;Tiberius, those cheap assassins sent by a cowardly, indecisive Emperor. And the&lt;br /&gt;rest – I banished it from my mind, affecting the attitude of the hardened Roman&lt;br /&gt;man or woman.&lt;br /&gt;A modern Irish poet, Yeats, best characterizes the official Roman attitude&lt;br /&gt;towards failure and tragedy.&lt;br /&gt;Cast a cold eye on life, on death. Horseman, pass by!&lt;br /&gt;There was never a Roman born who would not have agreed with that.&lt;br /&gt;That was my stance – sole survivor of a great house, commanded by her Father to&lt;br /&gt;“live.” I didn’t dare to dwell on the fate of my brothers, their lovely wives,&lt;br /&gt;their little children. I couldn’t envision the slaughter of the children –&lt;br /&gt;little boys being run through by broadswords, or babies bashed against the wall.&lt;br /&gt;Oh, Rome, you and your bloody old wisdom. Be sure to kill the offspring. Kill&lt;br /&gt;the whole family!&lt;br /&gt;Lying alone at night, I found myself amid more horrid blood dreams. They seemed&lt;br /&gt;fragments of a lost life, a lost land. Deep echoing vibrant tones of music&lt;br /&gt;dominated the dreams, as though someone were striking a gong, and others beside&lt;br /&gt;him beat solemnly on deep drums with soft coverings. I saw in a haze a world of&lt;br /&gt;stiff and flat alien paintings on the walls. Painted eyes around me. I drank&lt;br /&gt;blood! I drank it from a small shuddering human being, who knelt before me as if&lt;br /&gt;I were Mother Isis.&lt;br /&gt;I woke to take the big jug of water by my bed and drink all of it down. I drank&lt;br /&gt;water to defy and satisfy this dream thirst. I was almost sick from drinking&lt;br /&gt;water.&lt;br /&gt;I racked my mind. Had I ever had such dreams as a child?&lt;br /&gt;No. And now these dreams had the heat of recollection! Of initiation into the&lt;br /&gt;doomed Temple of Isis, when it had been still the fashion. I had been&lt;br /&gt;intoxicated, and drenched in the blood of a bull, and dancing wildly in circles.&lt;br /&gt;My head was filled with the litanies of Isis. We were promised rebirth! “Never&lt;br /&gt;tell, never tell, never tell...” How could an initiate tell anything of the&lt;br /&gt;rites, when you were so drunk you could hardly remember them?&lt;br /&gt;Isis brought me memories now of lovely music of lyres, flutes, timbrels, of the&lt;br /&gt;high magical sound of the metal strings of the sistrum, which the Mother Herself&lt;br /&gt;held in her hand. There were only fleeting recollections of that naked blood&lt;br /&gt;dance, that night of rising into the stars, of seeing the scope of life in its&lt;br /&gt;cycles, of accepting perfectly just for a little while that the moon would&lt;br /&gt;always be changing, and the sun would set as it always rose. Embraces of other&lt;br /&gt;women. Soft cheeks and kissing and bodies rocking in unison. “Life, death,&lt;br /&gt;rebirth, it’s no series of miracles,” said the Priestess. "To understand it and&lt;br /&gt;accept it, that is the miracle. Make the miracle within your own breast."&lt;br /&gt;Surely we had not drunk blood! And the bull – it was a sacrifice only for the&lt;br /&gt;initiation. We did not bring helpless animals to her flower-laden altars, no,&lt;br /&gt;our Blessed Mother did not ask that of us.&lt;br /&gt;Now, at sea, alone, I lay awake to avoid these blood dreams.&lt;br /&gt;When exhaustion won out, a dream came with sleep as if it had been waiting for&lt;br /&gt;my eyes to close.&lt;br /&gt;I lay in a gold chamber. I was drinking blood, blood from the throat of a god,&lt;br /&gt;or so it seemed, and choruses were singing or chanting – it was a dull,&lt;br /&gt;repetitive sound not quite worthy of being called music, and when I had had my&lt;br /&gt;fill of blood, this god or whoever this was, this silken-skinned proud thing,&lt;br /&gt;lifted me and placed me on an altar.&lt;br /&gt;Vividly, I could feel the cold marble beneath me. I realized I wore no clothes.&lt;br /&gt;I felt no modesty.&lt;br /&gt;Somewhere far off echoing through these great halls, came the weeping of a&lt;br /&gt;woman. I was full of blood. Those who chanted approached with little clay oil&lt;br /&gt;lamps. Faces around me were dark, dark enough to be from far faraway Ethiopia or&lt;br /&gt;India. Or Egypt. Look. Painted eyes! I looked at my hands and arms. They were&lt;br /&gt;dark. But I was this person who lay on the altar, and I say person now because&lt;br /&gt;it had come clear to me with no disturbance during the dream itself that I was a&lt;br /&gt;man lying there. Pain tore at me. The god said, “This is merely the passage. You&lt;br /&gt;will now drink from each of us, only a little blood."&lt;br /&gt;Only when I woke did the brief transition in the masculine gender leave me as&lt;br /&gt;puzzled as everything else. I was drenched with a sense of Egyptian art,&lt;br /&gt;Egyptian mystery – as I’d seen it in golden statues for sale in the marketplace,&lt;br /&gt;or when the Egyptian dancers performed at a banquet, like walking sculptures&lt;br /&gt;with their black-lined eyes, and black plaited wigs, whispering in that&lt;br /&gt;mysterious tongue. What had they thought of our Isis in Roman dress?&lt;br /&gt;A mystery taunted me; something attacked my reason. The very thing the Roman&lt;br /&gt;Emperors had so feared in Egyptian cults and Oriental cults swept over me:&lt;br /&gt;mystery and emotion which claim a superiority to reason and law.&lt;br /&gt;My Isis had been a Roman goddess, really, a universal goddess, the Mother of us&lt;br /&gt;all, her worship spreading out in a Greek and Roman world long before it had&lt;br /&gt;come into Rome itself. Our Priests were Greeks and Roman, poor men. We the&lt;br /&gt;congregation were all Greeks and Romans.&lt;br /&gt;Something scratched at the back of my mind. It said, “Remember." It was a tiny&lt;br /&gt;desperate voice within my own brain that urged me to “remember” for my own sake.&lt;br /&gt;But remembering only led to confused and jumbled thoughts. Suddenly a veil would&lt;br /&gt;fall between the reality of my cabin on the ship, and the tumbling of the sea –&lt;br /&gt;between that and some dim and frightening world, of Temples covered in words&lt;br /&gt;that made magic! Long narrow beautifully bronzed faces. A voice whispered,&lt;br /&gt;“Beware the Priests of Ra; they lie!”&lt;br /&gt;I shivered. I closed my eyes. The Queen Mother was bound and chained to her&lt;br /&gt;throne! She wept! It had been her crying. Unspeakable. "But you see, she has&lt;br /&gt;forgotten how to rule. Do as we say.”&lt;br /&gt;I shook myself awake. I wanted to know and I did not want to know. The Queen&lt;br /&gt;wept beneath her monstrous fetters. I couldn’t see her clearly. It was all in&lt;br /&gt;progress. It was busy. "The King is with Osiris, you see. You see how he stares;&lt;br /&gt;each one whose blood you drink, you give to Osiris; each one becomes Osiris.”&lt;br /&gt;“But why did the Queen scream?” '&lt;br /&gt;No, this was madness. I couldn’t let this confusion overcome me. I couldn’t&lt;br /&gt;deliberately slip from reason into these fantasies or recollections supposing&lt;br /&gt;they had a true root.&lt;br /&gt;They had to be nonsense, twisted images of grief and guilt, guilt that I had not&lt;br /&gt;rushed to the hearth and driven the dagger into my breast.&lt;br /&gt;I tried to remember the calming voice of my Father, explaining once how the&lt;br /&gt;blood of the gladiators satisfied the thirst of the dead, the Manes,&lt;br /&gt;“Now, some say that the Dead drink blood,” spoke my Father from some long ago&lt;br /&gt;dinner talk. “That’s why we are so fearful on all these unlucky days, when the&lt;br /&gt;Dead are supposed to be able to walk the Earth. I personally think this is&lt;br /&gt;nonsense. We should revere our ancestors...”&lt;br /&gt;“Where are the Dead, Father?” my brother Lucius asked.&lt;br /&gt;Who had piped up from the other side of the table, to quote Lucretius in a sad&lt;br /&gt;little female voice that nevertheless commanded silence of all these men'?&lt;br /&gt;Lydia:&lt;br /&gt;Of earth return to earth, but any part&lt;br /&gt;Sent down from heaven, must ascend again&lt;br /&gt;Recalled to the high temples of the sky&lt;br /&gt;And death does not destroy the elements&lt;br /&gt;Of matter, only breaks the combinations.&lt;br /&gt;“No,” my Father had replied to me quite gently. “Rather quote Ovid: ‘The ghosts&lt;br /&gt;ask for but little; they value piety more than a costly gift.' ” He drank his&lt;br /&gt;wine. “The ghosts are in the Underworld where they can’t harm us.”&lt;br /&gt;My eldest brother Antony had said, “The Dead are nowhere and are nothing.”&lt;br /&gt;My Father had raised his cup. “To Rome,” he said, and it was he this time who&lt;br /&gt;had quoted Lucretius: “ ‘Too many times, religion mothers crimes and&lt;br /&gt;wickedness.’ ”&lt;br /&gt;Shrugs and sighs all around. The Roman attitude. Even the Priests and&lt;br /&gt;Priestesses of Isis would have joined Lucretius when he wrote:&lt;br /&gt;Our terrors and our darknesses of mind&lt;br /&gt;Mast be dispelled, then, not by sunshine’s rays,&lt;br /&gt;Not by those shining arrows of Light,&lt;br /&gt;But by insight into nature, and a scheme&lt;br /&gt;Of systematic contemplation.&lt;br /&gt;Drunk? Drugged? Bull’s blood? Systematic? Well, it all came down to the same&lt;br /&gt;thing. Know! Twist the poetry as you will. And the phallus of Osiris lives&lt;br /&gt;forever in the Nile, and the water of the Nile inseminates the Mother Egypt&lt;br /&gt;eternally, death giving birth to life with the blessing of Mother Isis. Merely a&lt;br /&gt;particular scheme and a sort of systematic form of contemplation.&lt;br /&gt;The ship sailed on.&lt;br /&gt;I languished some eight more days in this torment, often lying awake in the&lt;br /&gt;dark, and sleeping only in the day to avoid the dreams.&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, in the early morning, Jacob pounded my door.&lt;br /&gt;We were midway up the Orontes to the city.&lt;br /&gt;Twenty miles now from Antioch. I did up my hair as best I could (I’d never done&lt;br /&gt;it without a slave) into a chignon on the back of my head, then covered my Roman&lt;br /&gt;gowns with a great black cloak and prepared to disembark – an Eastern woman, her&lt;br /&gt;face draped, protected by Hebrews.&lt;br /&gt;When the city came into view – when the immense harbor greeted us and then&lt;br /&gt;embraced us with all its masts and racket and odors and cries, I ran to the deck&lt;br /&gt;of the ship and looked out at this city. It was splendid.&lt;br /&gt;“You see,” Jacob said.&lt;br /&gt;Taken from the ship by litter I found myself carried rapidly through vast&lt;br /&gt;waterfront markets, and then into a great open square, crowded with people. I&lt;br /&gt;saw everywhere the Temples, porticoes, booksellers, even the high walls of an&lt;br /&gt;amphitheater – all that I could have expected in Rome. No, this was no town.&lt;br /&gt;The young men were crowded about the barbershops ready to have their obligatory&lt;br /&gt;shave and the inevitable fancy curls on their foreheads, which Tiberius with his&lt;br /&gt;own hairstyle had made fashionable. There were wine shops all over. The slave&lt;br /&gt;markets were jammed. I glimpsed the entrances to the streets devoted to crafts –&lt;br /&gt;the street of the tentmakers, the street of the silversmiths.&lt;br /&gt;And there in all its glory, in the very center of Antioch, stood the Temple of&lt;br /&gt;Isis!&lt;br /&gt;My goddess, Isis, with her worshipers coming and going, undisturbed, and in huge&lt;br /&gt;numbers. A few very proper-looking linen-clad Priests stood at the doors! The&lt;br /&gt;Temple was aswarm.&lt;br /&gt;I thought, I can run away from any husband in this place!&lt;br /&gt;Gradually I realized a great commotion had come upon the Forum, the center of&lt;br /&gt;the city. I heard Jacob ordering the men to hurry out of the broad market street&lt;br /&gt;and into the back streets. My bearers were running. The curtains were brought&lt;br /&gt;shut by Jacob’s hand so I couldn’t see out.&lt;br /&gt;News was being shouted out in Latin, in Greek, in Chaldean: Murder, Murder,&lt;br /&gt;Poison, Treachery.&lt;br /&gt;I peeped out of the curtain.&lt;br /&gt;People were weeping and cursing the Roman Gnaeus Calpurnius Piso, cursing him&lt;br /&gt;and his wife, Placina. Why? I didn’t much like either one of them, but what was&lt;br /&gt;all this?&lt;br /&gt;Jacob shouted again at my bearer to hurry.&lt;br /&gt;We were rushed through the gates and into the vestibule of a sizable house no&lt;br /&gt;different in design or color than my own in Rome, only much smaller. I could see&lt;br /&gt;the same refinements, the distant peristyle, clusters of weeping slaves.&lt;br /&gt;The litter was promptly set down and I stepped out, deeply concerned that they&lt;br /&gt;had not stopped me at the doors to wash my feet, as was proper. And my hair, it&lt;br /&gt;had all fallen down in waves.&lt;br /&gt;But no one noticed me. I turned round and round, amazed at the Oriental curtains&lt;br /&gt;and tassels that hung over the doorways, the caged birds everywhere singing in&lt;br /&gt;their little prisons. The woven carpets lying all over the floor, one heaped&lt;br /&gt;upon another.&lt;br /&gt;Two obvious ladies of the house came towards me.&lt;br /&gt;“What’s the matter!" I asked.&lt;br /&gt;They were as fashionable as any rich woman in Rome, drenched in bracelets and&lt;br /&gt;wearing goldtrimmed gowns.&lt;br /&gt;“I implore you,” said one of the women, “for your own sake, go! Get back into&lt;br /&gt;the litter!"&lt;br /&gt;They tried to push me inside the curtained cell of the litter. I wouldn’t go. I&lt;br /&gt;became furious.&lt;br /&gt;“I don’t know where I am,” I said. “And I don't know who you are! Now, stop&lt;br /&gt;pushing me!"&lt;br /&gt;The Master of the House, or someone who certainly appeared to be such, came&lt;br /&gt;dashing towards me, with tears streaming down his cheeks and his short tousled&lt;br /&gt;gray hair a mess – torn as if in mourning. He’d ripped his long tunic. He'd&lt;br /&gt;smeared dirt on his face! He was old with a bent back and a massive head, loaded&lt;br /&gt;with skin and wrinkles.&lt;br /&gt;“Your Father was my young colleague,” he said to me in Latin. He grabbed me by&lt;br /&gt;the arms. “I dined in your house when you were a baby. I saw you when you&lt;br /&gt;crawled on all fours."&lt;br /&gt;“Tender,” I said quickly.&lt;br /&gt;“Your Father and I studied in Athens, slept under the same roof."&lt;br /&gt;The women stood panic-stricken with their hands over their mouths.&lt;br /&gt;“Your Father and I fought with Tiberius on his first campaign. We fought those&lt;br /&gt;lurid barbarians.”&lt;br /&gt;"Very brave,” I said.&lt;br /&gt;My black outer cloak fell down, revealing my unkempt wild long hair and plain&lt;br /&gt;dress. Nobody cared.&lt;br /&gt;“Germanicus dined in this house because your Father spoke of me!"&lt;br /&gt;“Oh dear, I see," I said.&lt;br /&gt;One of the women motioned for me to get in the litter. Where was Jacob? The old&lt;br /&gt;man wouldn’t let me go.&lt;br /&gt;“I stood with your Father and with Augustus when news came to us of the massacre&lt;br /&gt;of our troops in the Teutoburg Forest, that General Varus and all his men were&lt;br /&gt;slain. My sons fought with your brothers in the legions of Germanicus when he&lt;br /&gt;punished those Northern tribes! Oh, God!”&lt;br /&gt;“Yes, very marvelous, indeed,” I said gravely.&lt;br /&gt;“Get back in the litter and get out,” said one of the women.&lt;br /&gt;The old man clutched me.&lt;br /&gt;"We fought the madman, King Arminius!” said the old man. “We could have won!&lt;br /&gt;Your brother Antony wasn’t for giving up and coming back, was he?”&lt;br /&gt;“I... no...”&lt;br /&gt;“Get her out of here!” screamed a young patrician man, who had also been&lt;br /&gt;weeping. He came forward and shoved me towards the litter.&lt;br /&gt;“Stand back, you imbecile!” I said to him. I slapped his face.&lt;br /&gt;All this while, Jacob had been talking to the slaves, getting the scoop.&lt;br /&gt;Jacob appeared beside me, as the gray-haired Greek sobbed and kissed my cheeks.&lt;br /&gt;Jacob took over, guiding me into the litter.&lt;br /&gt;,– “Germanicus has just been murdered,” Jacob said in my ear. “Everybody loyal&lt;br /&gt;to him is convinced that the Emperor Tiberius put the Roman Governor Piso up to&lt;br /&gt;the murder. It was done with poison. Word is spreading through the city like&lt;br /&gt;fire,”&lt;br /&gt;"Tiberius, you idiot!” I whispered, rolling my eyes. “One cowardly step after&lt;br /&gt;another!”&lt;br /&gt;I sank back into the darkness. The litter was being lifted.&lt;br /&gt;Jacob went right on: “Gnaeus Calpurnius Piso has allies here, naturally.&lt;br /&gt;Everybody’s fighting everybody else. Settling scores. Mayhem. This Greek family&lt;br /&gt;traveled with Germanicus to Egypt. There are riots already. We go!”&lt;br /&gt;"Farewell, friend," I cried to the old Greek, as I was carried from the house.&lt;br /&gt;But I don’t think he heard me. He had gone down on his knees. He cursed&lt;br /&gt;Tiberius. He screamed of suicide and begged for the dagger.&lt;br /&gt;We were outside once more, hurrying through the street.&lt;br /&gt;I lay askew in the litter, thinking dully in the darkness. Germanicus dead.&lt;br /&gt;Poisoned by Tiberius!&lt;br /&gt;I knew that this recent trip of Germanicus to Egypt had made Tiberius very&lt;br /&gt;angry. Egypt was like no other Roman province. Rome was so dependent upon it for&lt;br /&gt;grain that Senators could not go there. But Germanicus had gone, “just to see&lt;br /&gt;the ancient relics," his friends had said in the streets of Rome.&lt;br /&gt;“A mere excuse!” I thought in desperation. “Where was the trial? The sentence?&lt;br /&gt;Poison!”&lt;br /&gt;My bearers were running. People were screaming and sobbing around us.&lt;br /&gt;"Germanicus, Germanicus! Give us back our beautiful Germanicus!”&lt;br /&gt;Antioch had gone mad.&lt;br /&gt;At last, we were obviously in a small narrow street that was little more than an&lt;br /&gt;alleyway – you know the kind, for a grid of them was uncovered in the ruins of&lt;br /&gt;Pompeii in Italy. You could smell the male urine collected in the jugs on the&lt;br /&gt;corner. You could smell food cooking from high chimneys. My bearers were running&lt;br /&gt;and stumbling over rough cobblestones.&lt;br /&gt;Once we were all thrown to the side as a chariot came crashing through the&lt;br /&gt;narrow place, its wheels no doubt finding the ruts in the stone intended for it.&lt;br /&gt;My head had hit the wall. I was furious and frightened. But Jacob said, "Lydia,&lt;br /&gt;we are with you.”&lt;br /&gt;I covered up all over with the cloak, so that only one eye allowed me to see the&lt;br /&gt;seams of light between the curtains on either side of me. I had my hand on my&lt;br /&gt;dagger.&lt;br /&gt;The litter was set down. It was a cool indoor place. I heard Jacob’s father,&lt;br /&gt;David, arguing. I knew no Hebrew And I wasn't even sure that he was speaking in&lt;br /&gt;Hebrew. Finally, Jacob took over in Greek, and I realized that they were&lt;br /&gt;purchasing outright a proper house for me which came with all fine appointments,&lt;br /&gt;including much fine furniture, left recently by a rich widow who had lived there&lt;br /&gt;alone, but alas, the slaves had been sold off; No slaves. This was a quick cash&lt;br /&gt;deal.&lt;br /&gt;Finally, I heard Jacob say in Greek:&lt;br /&gt;"You damn well better be telling me the truth.”&lt;br /&gt;As the litter was lifted I beckoned to him. “I owe you my life twice over now.&lt;br /&gt;That Greek family who was to shelter me? They are truly in danger?”&lt;br /&gt;“Of course," he said. “When a riot starts, who cares? They went with Germanicus&lt;br /&gt;to Egypt! Piso’s men know that! Anybody with the slightest excuse will attack,&lt;br /&gt;murder and plunder someone else. Look, fire." He told the men to hurry.&lt;br /&gt;“All right," I said. “Never say my real name again. From now on say this name:&lt;br /&gt;My name is Pandora. I am a Greek from Rome. I paid you to bring me here.”&lt;br /&gt;“You have it, my dear Pandora,” he replied. “You are some strong woman. The Deed&lt;br /&gt;to your new house is made up in a fake name with less charm. But the Deed&lt;br /&gt;verifies you are widowed, emancipated and a Roman Citizen. We’ll get the Deed&lt;br /&gt;when we pay up the gold, which we won't do until we are in the house. And if the&lt;br /&gt;man does not give me that Deed with everything written out in full to protect&lt;br /&gt;you, I’ll strangle him!“&lt;br /&gt;"You’re very clever, Jacob," I said wearily.&lt;br /&gt;On and on went this dark bouncing journey in the litter until at last it came to&lt;br /&gt;a halt. I could hear the metal key turning in the lock of the gate, and then we&lt;br /&gt;were brought into the large vestibule of the house itself.&lt;br /&gt;I should have waited out of consideration for my guardians, but frantically I&lt;br /&gt;limbed out of this miserable little black veiled prison, throwing off the cloak&lt;br /&gt;and taking a deep breath.&lt;br /&gt;We were in the broad vestibule of a fine house, with great charm to it and much&lt;br /&gt;ingenuity in its decoration.&lt;br /&gt;Even now, my thoughts scattered, I saw the lionhead fountain right near the gate&lt;br /&gt;through which we'd just come, and I washed my feet in the cool of the water.&lt;br /&gt;The receiving room, or atrium, was huge, and beyond it I saw the rich couches of&lt;br /&gt;the dining room on the far side of a rather large enclosed garden – the&lt;br /&gt;peristyle.&lt;br /&gt;It was not my massive ancient opulent old home on the Palatine Hill, which had&lt;br /&gt;grown new corridors and rooms over many generations, penetrating its broad&lt;br /&gt;gardens.&lt;br /&gt;It was a bit too glossy. But it was grand. All the walls were freshly painted&lt;br /&gt;with a more Oriental bent, I think – more swirls and serpentine lines. How could&lt;br /&gt;I judge? I could have fainted from relief. Would people really leave me alone&lt;br /&gt;here?&lt;br /&gt;There sat the desk in the atrium, and near it books! Along the porticoes&lt;br /&gt;flanking the garden, I saw the many doors; I looked up and saw the second-story&lt;br /&gt;windows dosed on the porches. Splendor. Safety.&lt;br /&gt;The mosaic floors were old; I knew the style, the festive figures of the&lt;br /&gt;Saturnalia on parade. They had to have been brought here from Italy.'&lt;br /&gt;Little real marble, plastered columns, but so many well-executed murals full of&lt;br /&gt;the requisite happy nymphs.&lt;br /&gt;I went out into the soft wet grass of the peristyle and looked up at the blue&lt;br /&gt;sky.&lt;br /&gt;I wanted only to breathe, but now came the moment of truth regarding my&lt;br /&gt;belongings. I was too dazed to ask about what was mine. And as it turned out, no&lt;br /&gt;such thing was necessary.&lt;br /&gt;Jacob and David first did an entire inventory of the household furnishings they&lt;br /&gt;were purchasing for me, as I stood there staring at them in near disbelief at&lt;br /&gt;their patience with detail.&lt;br /&gt;And when they’d found every room quite fine, and a bedchamber down the hall to&lt;br /&gt;the right, and a small open garden somewhere to the left, beyond the kitchen,&lt;br /&gt;they went upstairs, found things proper and then unloaded my possessions. Trunk&lt;br /&gt;followed trunk.&lt;br /&gt;Then to my utter shock, Jacob’s father, David, drew out a scroll and actually&lt;br /&gt;started taking a full inventory of everything that belonged to me, from hairpins&lt;br /&gt;to ink and gold.&lt;br /&gt;Jacob was meantime sent on an errand!&lt;br /&gt;I could see the hasty writing of my Father on this inventory that David read&lt;br /&gt;under his breath.&lt;br /&gt;“Personal toilet articles,” David said in final summation of one portion of this&lt;br /&gt;examination. “Clothes, one, two, three trunks – to the largest bedroom, go!&lt;br /&gt;Household plate to the kitchen. Books here?”&lt;br /&gt;“Yes, please.” I was too shocked at his honesty and meticulousness to speak&lt;br /&gt;“Ah, so many books!”&lt;br /&gt;“Fine, don’t count them.” I said.&lt;br /&gt;"I cannot, you see, these Fragile...”&lt;br /&gt;“Yes, I know. Carry on.”&lt;br /&gt;“You want your ivory and ebony shelves assembled here in the front room?”&lt;br /&gt;“Magnificent.”&lt;br /&gt;I slumped down on the floor, only to be lifted at once by two helpful Asian&lt;br /&gt;slaves and settled in an amazingly soft cross-legged Roman chair. I was given a&lt;br /&gt;cup of fresh dean-smelling water. I drank it down, thought of blood. Closed my&lt;br /&gt;eyes.&lt;br /&gt;"Ink, writing materials on the desk?” asked the old man.&lt;br /&gt;“If you will,” I sighed.&lt;br /&gt;“Now, everybody out,” said the old man, dispensing coins quickly and generously&lt;br /&gt;to these Asian slaves, who bowed from the waist and backed out of the room,&lt;br /&gt;nearly stumbling over each other.&lt;br /&gt;I was about to try to form some sensible words of gratitude when a fresh brace&lt;br /&gt;of slaves rushed in – nearly colliding with the departing crew – carrying&lt;br /&gt;baskets of everything edible that a marketplace could yield, including at least&lt;br /&gt;nine kinds of bread, jugs of oil, melons, green vegetables and much smoked food&lt;br /&gt;that would last for days – fish, beef and exotic sea creatures dried out to look&lt;br /&gt;like parchment.&lt;br /&gt;At once to the kitchen, save for a plate of olives and cheese and bread at once&lt;br /&gt;for the lady on that table to her left. Fetch the lady’s wine, which her Father&lt;br /&gt;has sent.&lt;br /&gt;Oh, how incredible. My Father’s wine.&lt;br /&gt;Then everyone was ordered out again with lots of coins freely given and the old&lt;br /&gt;man at once returned to his inventory.&lt;br /&gt;“Jacob, come here, count for me this gold as I read off the list to you! Plate,&lt;br /&gt;coin, more coin, jewels of exceptional value? Coin, bars of gold. Yes...”&lt;br /&gt;On and on they went, rushing at it.&lt;br /&gt;Where had my Father hidden all this gold? I couldn’t imagine it.&lt;br /&gt;What was I going to do with it? Were they really going to let me keep this? They&lt;br /&gt;were honest men but this was such a fortune.&lt;br /&gt;“You must wait until everyone is gone,” said David, “and then hide this gold&lt;br /&gt;yourself in various places about the house. You will find such places. We cannot&lt;br /&gt;do that for you, for then we would know where it was. Your jewels'? Some I leave&lt;br /&gt;here to be hidden for they are much too valuable to be flashed abroad among the&lt;br /&gt;populace in your first days.” He opened a casket of gems. “See this ruby? It is&lt;br /&gt;superb. Look at the size of it. This can feed you for the rest of your life if&lt;br /&gt;sold to an honest man for half of its worth. Every jewel in this box is&lt;br /&gt;exceptional. I know jewels. These are hand-picked from the finest. See these&lt;br /&gt;pearls? Perfection.” He returned the ruby and the pearls to the casket and shut&lt;br /&gt;the lid.&lt;br /&gt;“Yes,” I said weakly.&lt;br /&gt;“Pearls, more gold, silver, plate...” he muttered. “It’s all here! We should&lt;br /&gt;take more care but...”&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, no, you have done wonders,” I declared.&lt;br /&gt;I stared at the bread and the wine in the cup. My Father’s wine bottle. My&lt;br /&gt;Father’s amphorae around the room.&lt;br /&gt;“Pandora," said Jacob, addressing me most seriously. "Here in my hand is the&lt;br /&gt;Deed to this house. And another paper which describes your official entry into&lt;br /&gt;the port under your new made-up name, Julia, La, La, La and so forth. Pandora,&lt;br /&gt;we have to leave you."&lt;br /&gt;The old man shook his head and bit his lip.&lt;br /&gt;“We have to sail for Ephesus, child,” he said. “I am ashamed that I must leave&lt;br /&gt;you, but the harbor will soon be blocked!”&lt;br /&gt;“There are ships on fire already in the harbor,” said Jacob under his breath.&lt;br /&gt;“They’ve pulled down the statue of Tiberius in the Forum.”&lt;br /&gt;"The transaction is closed," said the old man to me. "The man who sold the house&lt;br /&gt;has never laid eyes on you and does not know your real name, and there is no&lt;br /&gt;evidence of it remaining here. Those were not his slaves who brought you here.”&lt;br /&gt;“You’ve done miracles for me,” I said.&lt;br /&gt;“You are on your own, my beautiful Roman princess,” Jacob said. “It hurts my&lt;br /&gt;soul to leave you like this.”&lt;br /&gt;“We must," said the old man.&lt;br /&gt;“Don’t go out for three days," said Jacob, coming near to me, about as near as&lt;br /&gt;he could, as if he even meant to break all the rules and kiss my cheek. "There&lt;br /&gt;are enough legions here to quell this riot, but they will let it burn itself&lt;br /&gt;out, rather than slaughter Roman citizens. And forget those Greek friends. Their&lt;br /&gt;house is already an inferno.”&lt;br /&gt;They turned to leave!&lt;br /&gt;“Were you well paid for all this?” I asked. “If not, take from my gold now,&lt;br /&gt;freely. I insist!”&lt;br /&gt;“Don’t even think of such things,” said the old man. “But for your peace of&lt;br /&gt;mind, know this: your Father staked me twice after my ships were captured by&lt;br /&gt;pirates in the Adriatic. Your Father put his money in with mine and I made&lt;br /&gt;profits for both of us. The Greek owed your Father money. Worry about those&lt;br /&gt;matters no more. But we must go!"&lt;br /&gt;“God be with you, Pandora,” said Jacob.&lt;br /&gt;Jewels. Where were the jewels? I leapt up and opened the casket. There were&lt;br /&gt;hundreds of them, flawless, dazzlingly clear and exquisitely polished. I saw&lt;br /&gt;their value, their clarity and the care of the polishing. I took the big&lt;br /&gt;egg-shaped ruby David had shown to me and then another just like it and thrust&lt;br /&gt;them at the two men.&lt;br /&gt;They put up their hands to say No.&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, but you must,” I said, “Give me this respect. Confirm for me that I am a&lt;br /&gt;free Roman woman and that I shall live as my Father told me to do! It will give&lt;br /&gt;me courage! Take this from me.”&lt;br /&gt;David shook his head sternly, but Jacob took the ruby.&lt;br /&gt;“Pandora, here, the keys. Follow us and lock the gate at the street and then the&lt;br /&gt;doors to the vestibule. Don’t fear. There are lamps everywhere. Plenty of oil –"&lt;br /&gt;"Go!” I said as they passed over the threshold. I locked the gate and held to&lt;br /&gt;the bars, staring at them.&lt;br /&gt;If you can't get out, if you need me, come back&lt;br /&gt;here,” I said.&lt;br /&gt;“We have our own people here,” Jacob said soothingly. “Thank you from my heart&lt;br /&gt;for the beautiful ruby, Pandora. You will survive. Go back in, bolt the doors.”&lt;br /&gt;I made it to the chair but I did not sit in it. Rather I collapsed and prayed,&lt;br /&gt;"Lares familiares... spirits of the house, I should find your altar. Welcome me,&lt;br /&gt;please, I bring no ill will to anyone. I will heap your altar with flowers and&lt;br /&gt;light your fire. Give me patience. Let me... rest.”&lt;br /&gt;Yet I did nothing but sit in shock on the floor, my hands limp, for hours as the&lt;br /&gt;daylight waned. As the strange little house grew dark&lt;br /&gt;A blood dream began, but I wouldn’t have it. Not that alien Temple. Not the&lt;br /&gt;altar, no! Not the blood. I banished it and imagined I was home.&lt;br /&gt;I was a little girl. Dream of that, I told myself, of listening to my eldest&lt;br /&gt;brother, Antony, talk of war in the North, driving the mad Germans back to the&lt;br /&gt;sea! He had so loved Germanicus. So had my other brothers. Lucius, the young&lt;br /&gt;one, he was so weak by nature. It broke my heart to think of him crying out for&lt;br /&gt;mercy as soldiers cut him down.&lt;br /&gt;The Empire was the world. All that lay beyond was chaos and misery and struggle&lt;br /&gt;and strife. I was a soldier. I could fight. I dreamt I was putting on my armor.&lt;br /&gt;My brother said, “I am so relieved to discover you are a man, I always thought&lt;br /&gt;so.”&lt;br /&gt;I didn’t waken till the following morning.&lt;br /&gt;And then it was that grief and pain made themselves known to me as never before.&lt;br /&gt;Note this. Because I knew the full absurdity of Fate and Fortune and Nature more&lt;br /&gt;truly than a human can bear to know it. And perhaps the description of this,&lt;br /&gt;brief as it is, may give consolation to another. The worst takes its time to&lt;br /&gt;come, and then to pass.&lt;br /&gt;The truth is, you cannot prepare anyone for this, nor convey an understanding of&lt;br /&gt;it through language. It must be known. And this I would wish on no one in the&lt;br /&gt;world.&lt;br /&gt;I was alone. I went from room to room of this small house, banging upon the&lt;br /&gt;walls with my fists and crying with my teeth clenched, and whirling. There was&lt;br /&gt;no Mother Isis.&lt;br /&gt;There were no gods. Philosophers were fools! Poets sang lies.&lt;br /&gt;I sobbed and tore at my hair; I tore at my dress as naturally as if it had been&lt;br /&gt;a newborn custom. I knocked over chairs and tables,&lt;br /&gt;At times I felt a huge exhilaration, a freedom from all falsehoods and&lt;br /&gt;conventions, all means by which a soul or body can be held hostage!&lt;br /&gt;And then the awesome nature of this freedom spread itself out around me as if&lt;br /&gt;the house did not exist, as if the darkness knew no walls.&lt;br /&gt;Three nights and days I spent in this agony.&lt;br /&gt;I forgot to eat food. I forgot to drink water.&lt;br /&gt;I never lighted a lamp. The moon nearing her fullness gave enough light to this&lt;br /&gt;meaningless labyrinth of little painted chambers.&lt;br /&gt;Sleep was gone from me forever.&lt;br /&gt;My heart beat fast. My limbs clenched, then slackened, only to clench again.&lt;br /&gt;At times, I lay on the moist good Earth of the courtyard, for my Father, because&lt;br /&gt;no one had laid his body on the moist good Earth, as it should have been done,&lt;br /&gt;right after his death and before any funeral.&lt;br /&gt;I knew suddenly why this disgrace was so important, his body rent with wounds&lt;br /&gt;and not placed on the Earth. I knew the gravity of this omission as few have&lt;br /&gt;ever known the meaning of anything. It was of the utmost importance because it&lt;br /&gt;did not matter at all!&lt;br /&gt;Live, Lydia.&lt;br /&gt;I looked at the small leafy trees of the garden. I felt a strange gratitude that&lt;br /&gt;I had opened human eyes in this darkness on Earth long enough to see such&lt;br /&gt;things.&lt;br /&gt;I quoted Lucretius:&lt;br /&gt;“That which comes from Heaven ascends to Heaven”?&lt;br /&gt;Madness!&lt;br /&gt;Alas, as I said, I wandered, crawled, wept and cried for three nights and days.&lt;br /&gt;4&lt;br /&gt;Finally, one morning, when the sun came spilling down through the open roof, I&lt;br /&gt;looked at the objects in the room and I realized I didn’t know what they were,&lt;br /&gt;or what they'd been made for. I didn’t know their common names. I was removed&lt;br /&gt;from their definitions. I didn’t even know this place.&lt;br /&gt;I sat up and realized I was looking at the Lararium, the shrine of the household&lt;br /&gt;gods.&lt;br /&gt;This was the dining room of course, and those were the couches, and there the&lt;br /&gt;glorious conjugal bed!&lt;br /&gt;The Lararium was a high three-sided shrine, a little temple with three&lt;br /&gt;pediments, and inside stood figures of old household gods. No one in this&lt;br /&gt;profane city had even taken them away with the dead woman.&lt;br /&gt;The flowers were dead. The fire had simply gone out. No one had quenched it with&lt;br /&gt;wine, as should have been done.&lt;br /&gt;On hands and knees I crawled in my torn dress around the garden of the&lt;br /&gt;peristyle, gathering flowers for these gods. I found the wood and made their&lt;br /&gt;sacred fire.&lt;br /&gt;I stared at them. I stared for hours. It seemed I would never move again.&lt;br /&gt;Night fell. “Don't sleep," I whispered. “Keep watch with the night! They wait&lt;br /&gt;for you by dark, those Egyptians! The moon, look, it’s almost full, only a night&lt;br /&gt;or so from being full."&lt;br /&gt;But the worst of my agony had passed and I was exhausted, and sleep rose to&lt;br /&gt;embrace me. Sleep rose as if to say, “Care no more.”&lt;br /&gt;The dream came.&lt;br /&gt;I saw men in gilded robes. “You will be taken now in the sanctum." But what’s&lt;br /&gt;there? I didn’t want to see. “Our Mother, our beloved Mother of Sorrows,” said&lt;br /&gt;the Priest. The paintings on the walls were rows upon rows of Egyptians in&lt;br /&gt;profile, and words made of pictures. Myrrh burned in this place.&lt;br /&gt;“Come,” said those who held me. "All the impurities have gone from you now, and&lt;br /&gt;you will partake of the sacred Fount.”&lt;br /&gt;I could hear a woman crying and moaning. I peeped into the great room before I&lt;br /&gt;entered it. There they were, the King and the Queen on their thrones, the King&lt;br /&gt;still and staring as in the last dream, and the Queen struggling against her&lt;br /&gt;golden fetters. She wore the crown of Upper and Lower Egypt. And pleated linen.&lt;br /&gt;Her hair was not a wig but real plaits. She cried and her white cheeks were&lt;br /&gt;stained in red. Red stained her necklace and her breasts. She looked soiled and&lt;br /&gt;ignominious.&lt;br /&gt;“My Mother, my goddess,” I said. "But this is an abomination."&lt;br /&gt;I forced myself to wake.&lt;br /&gt;I sat up and I laid my hand on the Lararium, and looked at the spiderwebs in the&lt;br /&gt;trees of the garden, made visible by the climbing sun.&lt;br /&gt;I thought I heard people whispering in the ancient Egyptian tongue.&lt;br /&gt;I was not going to allow this! I would not go mad.&lt;br /&gt;Enough! The only man I had ever loved, my Father, said, "Live.”&lt;br /&gt;It was time for action. To get up and get going. I was suddenly all strength and&lt;br /&gt;purpose.&lt;br /&gt;My long nights of mourning and weeping had been equivalent to the initiation in&lt;br /&gt;the Temple; death had been the intoxicant; comprehension had been the&lt;br /&gt;transformation.&lt;br /&gt;It was over now, and the meaningless world was tolerable and need not be&lt;br /&gt;explained. And never would it be, and how foolish I had ever been to think so.&lt;br /&gt;The facts of my predicament warranted action.&lt;br /&gt;I poured out a cup of wine, and took it with me to the front gate.&lt;br /&gt;The city seemed quiet. People weed to and fro, casting their eyes away from a&lt;br /&gt;half-dressed, ragged woman in her vestibule.&lt;br /&gt;At last a workman trudging under his burden of bricks.&lt;br /&gt;I thrust forth the wine. "I have been ill for three days,” I said. "What of the&lt;br /&gt;death of Germanicus? How goes it in the city?”&lt;br /&gt;The man was so grateful for the wine. Labor had made him old. His arms were&lt;br /&gt;thin. His hands shook&lt;br /&gt;"Madam, thank you,” he said. He drained the cup, as if he could not stop&lt;br /&gt;himself. "Our Germanicus was laid out in the public square for all to see. How&lt;br /&gt;beautiful he was. Some compared him to the great Alexander. People could not&lt;br /&gt;determine. Had he been poisoned or not? Some said Yes, some said No.&lt;br /&gt;“His soldiers loved him. Governor Piso, thank the gods, is not here and dares&lt;br /&gt;not come back. Germanicus's wife, the gracious Agrippina, has the ashes of&lt;br /&gt;Germanicus in an urn she carries next to her breast. She sails for Rome, seeking&lt;br /&gt;justice for Tiberius.”&lt;br /&gt;He handed me the cup. “I humbly thank you."&lt;br /&gt;“The city is as usual again.”&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, yes, what could stop this glorified marketplace?” he declared. “Business&lt;br /&gt;goes on as always. The loyal soldiers of Germanicus keep the peace, waiting for&lt;br /&gt;justice. They will not let the murderous Piso return, and Sentius gathers to&lt;br /&gt;himself here all who served under Germanicus. The city is happy. The flame burns&lt;br /&gt;for Germanicus. If there is war, it won’t be here. Don’t worry.”&lt;br /&gt;“Thank you, you have helped me marvelously much.”&lt;br /&gt;I took the cup, locked the gate, shut the door and went into action.&lt;br /&gt;Nibbling on enough bread to give me strength, and murmuring aloud the common&lt;br /&gt;sense of Luretius, I surveyed the house. It had a large luxurious bath on the&lt;br /&gt;right side of the courtyard. Full of light. Water flowed steadily from the&lt;br /&gt;seashells of the nymphs into the plastered basin, and the water was fine. There&lt;br /&gt;was no need to light a fire for it.&lt;br /&gt;In the bedchamber were my clothes.&lt;br /&gt;Roman dresses were simple, as you know, just long shifts or tunics, and we wore&lt;br /&gt;two or three of them, plus an outdoor coverup tunic, the stola, and finally the&lt;br /&gt;palla, or mantle, which hung to the ankles and belted below the breasts.&lt;br /&gt;I chose the finest tunics, composing three layers of gossamer silk, and then a&lt;br /&gt;brilliant red palla that covered me from head to toe.&lt;br /&gt;In all my life, I had never had to put on my own sandals. This was hysterically&lt;br /&gt;funny and annoying!&lt;br /&gt;All my toilet articles had been laid out on tables which held burnished mirrors.&lt;br /&gt;What a mess!&lt;br /&gt;I sat down in one of the many gilded chairs, pushed the burnished metal mirror&lt;br /&gt;dose, and tried to work with the paints as my slaves had always done.&lt;br /&gt;I managed to darken my eyebrows, but my horror of the painted Egyptian eyes&lt;br /&gt;stopped me. I rouged my lips, put some white powder on my face, but that was it.&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't attempt powdering my arms, as would have been done for me in Rome.&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know what I looked like. Now I had to braid this damned hair, and I&lt;br /&gt;managed it, and fixed the braids in a big coil on the back of my head. I used&lt;br /&gt;enough pins for twenty women. Dragging down the loose curls around my face, on&lt;br /&gt;my forehead and cheeks, I saw in the mirror a Roman woman, modest and&lt;br /&gt;acceptable, I thought, her brown hair parted in the middle, her eyebrows black&lt;br /&gt;and her lips rosy red.&lt;br /&gt;Gathering up all this drapery was the biggest nuisance. I attempted to match&lt;br /&gt;length with length. I tried to get the silk stola straight and then belt it&lt;br /&gt;tightly beneath my breasts. I mean, all this folding, all this drapery and&lt;br /&gt;fastening. I’d always had slave girls around me. Finally with two undertunics&lt;br /&gt;and a long, fine red stola, I snatched up a silk palla, a very large one,&lt;br /&gt;fringed and decorated all over with gold.&lt;br /&gt;I put on rings, bracelets. But I intended to hide under this mantle as much as&lt;br /&gt;possible. I could remember my Father cursing every day of his life that he had&lt;br /&gt;to wear the toga, the official outer garment of the highborn Roman male. Well,&lt;br /&gt;only prostitutes wore togas. At least I didn’t have to cope with that.&lt;br /&gt;I headed straight for the slave markets.&lt;br /&gt;Jacob was right about the population here. The city was filled with men and&lt;br /&gt;women of all nations. Many women walked in pairs, arm in arm.&lt;br /&gt;Loose Greek cloaks were entirely acceptable here, and so were long exotic&lt;br /&gt;Phoenician or Babylonian gowns, both for men and women. Long hair among the men&lt;br /&gt;was common, as were heavy beards. Some women went about in tunics no longer than&lt;br /&gt;a man’s. Others were completely veiled, revealing only the eyes, as they walked,&lt;br /&gt;accompanied by guards and servants.&lt;br /&gt;The streets were cleaner than they might have been in Rome, the sewage flowing&lt;br /&gt;to wider gutters in the center and more swiftly to its destination.&lt;br /&gt;Long before I reached the Forum, or the central plaza, I had passed three&lt;br /&gt;different doors in which rich courtesans stood arguing sarcastically over price&lt;br /&gt;with wealthy young Greeks and Romans.&lt;br /&gt;One said, as I passed, to a handsome young man, "You want me in bed'? You’re&lt;br /&gt;dreaming. Any of the girls you can have, as I told you. If you want me, go home&lt;br /&gt;and sell everything you own!”&lt;br /&gt;Rich Romans in their full togas stood at the corner wine shops, and respected my&lt;br /&gt;quick glance away with a simple nod as I passed.&lt;br /&gt;Pray none of them would recognize me! It was not a likely thing, by any means,&lt;br /&gt;and we were so far from Rome, and I had lived so long in my Father's house,&lt;br /&gt;happily reprieved by him from banquets and suppers, and even ceremonial&lt;br /&gt;gatherings.&lt;br /&gt;The Forum was far larger than I had remembered from my brief glimpse. When I&lt;br /&gt;came to the edge of it and beheld the huge square flooded with sun, flanked on&lt;br /&gt;all sides with porticoes or Temples or Imperial buildings, I was amazed.&lt;br /&gt;In the canopied markets, everything was for sale, silversmiths grouped together,&lt;br /&gt;the weavers in their own place, the silk merchants in a row, and I could see&lt;br /&gt;down the side street that came in to my right that it was dedicated to the sale&lt;br /&gt;of slaves – the better slaves, who might never have to go to an auction block.&lt;br /&gt;Far away I saw the high masts of the ships. I could smell the river. There stood&lt;br /&gt;the Temple of Augustus, its fires burning, its uniformed Legionnaires in lazy&lt;br /&gt;readiness.&lt;br /&gt;I was hot and anxious, because my mantle kept slipping, in fact, all this silk&lt;br /&gt;seemed to slip and to slide, and there were many open wine gardens where women&lt;br /&gt;gathered in groups, chatting. I could have found a place near enough to someone&lt;br /&gt;to have a drink.&lt;br /&gt;But I had to have a household. I had to have loyal slaves.&lt;br /&gt;Now, in Rome, of course I had never gone to a slave market. I would never have&lt;br /&gt;had to do such a thing. Besides, we had so many families of slaves on our land&lt;br /&gt;in Tuscany and in Rome that we seldom if ever bought a new slave. On the&lt;br /&gt;contrary, my Father had a habit of inheriting the decrepit and wise from his&lt;br /&gt;friends, and we had often teased my Father about the Academy, which did nothing&lt;br /&gt;in the slaves’ garden but argue about history.&lt;br /&gt;But now I had to act the shrewd woman of the world. I inspected every quality&lt;br /&gt;household slave on display, quickly settled upon a pair of sisters, very young&lt;br /&gt;and very frightened that they were going to be auctioned at noon and go to a&lt;br /&gt;brothel. I sent for stools and we sat together.&lt;br /&gt;We talked.&lt;br /&gt;They came from a small fine family household in Tyre; they'd been born slaves.&lt;br /&gt;They knew Greek and Latin well. They spoke Aramaic. They were angelic in their&lt;br /&gt;sweetness.&lt;br /&gt;They had immaculate hands. They demonstrated every skill I required. They knew&lt;br /&gt;how to dress hair, paint a face, cook food. They rattled off recipes for Eastern&lt;br /&gt;dishes of which I'd never heard; they named different pomades, rouges. One of&lt;br /&gt;them flushed with fear, and then said, "Madam, I can paint your face for you,&lt;br /&gt;and very quickly and perfectly!”&lt;br /&gt;I knew this meant I had made a mess of the job.&lt;br /&gt;I also knew that, coming from a small household, they were far more versatile&lt;br /&gt;than our slaves at home.&lt;br /&gt;I bought them both, the answer to their prayers; I demanded clean tunics of&lt;br /&gt;modest length for both of them, got the tunics, made of blue linen, though they&lt;br /&gt;weren’t very fine, then found a roaming merchant with an armful of pallae. I&lt;br /&gt;brought. each sister a blue mantle. They were in such happiness. They were&lt;br /&gt;reticent and wanted their heads covered.&lt;br /&gt;I had no doubt of them. They would have died for me.&lt;br /&gt;It didn’t occur to me that they were starving until, while searching for other&lt;br /&gt;slaves, I heard a nasty slave dealer remind an impudent educated Greek that he&lt;br /&gt;would get no food until he was sold.&lt;br /&gt;"Horrors,” I said. “You girls, you’re probably hungry. Go to the cookshop in the&lt;br /&gt;Forum. Look down the street. See there, the scattering of benches and tables.”&lt;br /&gt;‘Mone?” they said in dismay.&lt;br /&gt;“Listen, girls. I have no time to feed you like birds from my hand. Don’t look&lt;br /&gt;any man in the eye; eat and drink what you want.” I gave them a seemingly&lt;br /&gt;shocking amount of money. “And don’t leave the cookshop till I come for you. If&lt;br /&gt;a man comes to you, pretend to be in terror, bow your heads and protest as best&lt;br /&gt;you can that you don’t speak his language. If worst comes to worst, go to the&lt;br /&gt;Temple of Isis.”&lt;br /&gt;They ran together down the narrow street towards the distant banquet, their&lt;br /&gt;mantles such a beautiful blue as they ballooned in the breeze that I can see it&lt;br /&gt;even now, the color of the sky streaking through the tight sweaty crowds beneath&lt;br /&gt;the jumble of canopies. Mia and Lia. Not hard to remember, but I could not tell&lt;br /&gt;them apart.&lt;br /&gt;A low derisive laughter surprised me. It was the Greek slave who had just been&lt;br /&gt;threatened with starvation by his Master.&lt;br /&gt;He said to his Master:&lt;br /&gt;'M right, starve me. And then what will you have to sell'? A sickened and dying&lt;br /&gt;man, instead of an unusual and great scholar."&lt;br /&gt;Unusual and great scholar!&lt;br /&gt;I turned and looked at the man. He sat on a stool and did not rise for me. He&lt;br /&gt;wore nothing but a filthy loincloth, which was plain stupidity on the part of&lt;br /&gt;the merchant, but this neglect certainly revealed that this slave was one very&lt;br /&gt;handsome man, beautiful in face, with soft brown hair and long almond-shaped&lt;br /&gt;green eyes, and a sarcastic expression to his pretty mouth. He was maybe thirty&lt;br /&gt;years old, perhaps a little younger. He was fit for his age, as Greeks like to&lt;br /&gt;be, having a sound musculature.&lt;br /&gt;His brown hair was filthy, had been hacked off and around his neck by a rope was&lt;br /&gt;the most wretched small board I ever beheld, crowded with tiny cramped letters&lt;br /&gt;in Latin.&lt;br /&gt;Pulling up the mantle again, I stepped up very close to his gorgeous naked&lt;br /&gt;chest, a little amused by his audacious stare, and tried to read all this.&lt;br /&gt;It seemed he could have taught all philosophy, all languages, all mathematics,&lt;br /&gt;could sing everything, knew every poet, could prepare whole banquets, was&lt;br /&gt;patient with children, had known military service with his Roman Master in the&lt;br /&gt;Balkans, could perform as an armed guard, was obedient and virtuous and had&lt;br /&gt;lived all his life in Athens in one house.&lt;br /&gt;I read this a bit scornfully. He glared at me impertinently when he saw this&lt;br /&gt;scorn. Impudently, he folded his arms just below this little plaque. He leaned&lt;br /&gt;back against the wall.&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly I saw why the merchant, hovering near, had not made the Greek rise. The&lt;br /&gt;Greek had only one good leg. The left leg below the knee was made of well-carved&lt;br /&gt;ivory, complete with carefully engraved foot and sandal. Perfect toes. Of course&lt;br /&gt;it had been pieced together, this fine ivory leg and foot, but in three&lt;br /&gt;proportionate sections, each girded with decorative work, and separate parts for&lt;br /&gt;the feet, nails defined and sandal straps exquisitely carved.&lt;br /&gt;I had never seen such a false limb, such a surrender to artifice rather than a&lt;br /&gt;meager attempt to imitate nature.&lt;br /&gt;"How did you lose your leg?” I asked him in Greek. No answer. I pointed to the&lt;br /&gt;leg. No answer.&lt;br /&gt;I asked again in Latin. Still no answer.&lt;br /&gt;The slave trader was rising on his toes in his anxiety and wringing his hands.&lt;br /&gt;“Mistress, he can keep records, run any business; he writes in perfect hand,&lt;br /&gt;keeps honest numbers.”&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm. So no mention of tutoring children? I did not look like a wife and mother.&lt;br /&gt;Not good.&lt;br /&gt;The Greek sneered and looked away. He said softly under his breath in piercing&lt;br /&gt;Latin that if I did spend money for him, I was spending it for a dead man. His&lt;br /&gt;voice was soft and beautiful, though weary and full of contempt, his enunciation&lt;br /&gt;unaffected and refined.&lt;br /&gt;I threw off all patience. I spoke quickly in Greek.&lt;br /&gt;"Learn from me, you arrogant Athenian idiot!" I said, red in the face, and&lt;br /&gt;furious to be so misjudged both by a slave and a slave dealer. "If you can write&lt;br /&gt;Greek and Latin at all, if you have in fact studied Aristotle and Euclid, whose&lt;br /&gt;name you misspelled, by the way, if you have been schooled in Athens and have&lt;br /&gt;seen battle in the Balkans, if even half of this great epic is true, why&lt;br /&gt;wouldn’t you want to belong to one of the most keenly intelligent women you’ll&lt;br /&gt;ever meet, who’ll treat you with dignity and respect in exchange for your&lt;br /&gt;loyalty? What do you know of Aristotle and Plato that I don’t? I’ve never struck&lt;br /&gt;a slave in my life. You pass up the one mistress to whom your loyalty might earn&lt;br /&gt;you any reward of which you could dream. That tablet is a pack of lies, isn't&lt;br /&gt;it?”&lt;br /&gt;The slave was stunned, but not angered. He sat forward, trying to appraise me&lt;br /&gt;further, without being obvious. The merchant gestured furiously for the slave to&lt;br /&gt;rise to his feet, which the slave did, giving him an admirable height over me.&lt;br /&gt;His legs were sound and strong up to the ivory limb.&lt;br /&gt;“What about telling me the real truth as to what you can do?” I said, switching&lt;br /&gt;to Latin.&lt;br /&gt;I turned to the slave dealer. “Get me a pen to correct this, the spelling of&lt;br /&gt;these names. If this man has any chance of becoming a teacher, these&lt;br /&gt;misspellings destroy it. He looks like a fool for writing such.”&lt;br /&gt;"I didn’t have space enough to write!” declared the slave suddenly, whispering&lt;br /&gt;in perfect Latin fury. He bent towards me, as if I should understand.&lt;br /&gt;“Look at this little tablet, if you’re so keenly intelligent! Do you realize the&lt;br /&gt;ignorance of this dealer here. He has not sense enough to know he has an&lt;br /&gt;emerald, and thinks it a piece of green glass! This is wretched. I crammed here&lt;br /&gt;what generalities I could.”&lt;br /&gt;I laughed. I was seduced and thrilled. I couldn’t stop laughing. This was too&lt;br /&gt;funny! The slave merchant was confused. Chastise the slave and lower his value?&lt;br /&gt;Or let the two of us work this out?&lt;br /&gt;“What was I to do,” he demanded in the same confidential whisper, only this time&lt;br /&gt;in Greek, “shout to every man passing, ‘Here sits a great teacher, here sits a&lt;br /&gt;philosopher!'?” He grew a little calm, having thus released this rage. “The&lt;br /&gt;names of my grandfathers are carved on the Acropolis at Athens,” he said.&lt;br /&gt;The merchant was mystified.&lt;br /&gt;But I was so obviously delighted and interested.&lt;br /&gt;My mantle slipped again and I gave it a hard jerk. These clothes. Had no one&lt;br /&gt;ever told me silk slides on silk?&lt;br /&gt;“And what about Ovid?” I said, taking a deep breath. I almost laughed myself&lt;br /&gt;into tears. “You wrote Ovid’s name here. Ovid. Is Ovid popular here? Nobody&lt;br /&gt;would dare write that on your card in Rome, I can tell you. You know, I don't&lt;br /&gt;even know if Ovid is still alive, and it’s a shame. Ovid taught me to kiss when&lt;br /&gt;I was ten years old, when I read the Amores. You ever read the Amores?”&lt;br /&gt;His entire demeanor altered. He softened and l could see he was just on the&lt;br /&gt;verge of hope, hope that I might be a good mistress for him. But he couldn’t let&lt;br /&gt;himself believe it.&lt;br /&gt;The merchant was waiting for the slightest signal as to what he might do.&lt;br /&gt;Clearly he could follow our exchanges.&lt;br /&gt;“Look, you insolent one-legged slave," I said. “If I thought you could even read&lt;br /&gt;Ovid to me in the evenings, I’d buy you in a moment. But this tablet here makes&lt;br /&gt;you a glorified Socrates and Alexander the Great smashed in one. In what war in&lt;br /&gt;the Balkans did you carry arms? Why are you dumped in the hands of this lowly&lt;br /&gt;merchant rather than taken at once to some fine house? How could anyone believe&lt;br /&gt;all this? If blind Homer had sung such a preposterous tale, people would have&lt;br /&gt;gotten up and left the tavern.”&lt;br /&gt;He grew angry, frustrated.&lt;br /&gt;The merchant put out his hand in warning, as if to control the man.&lt;br /&gt;“What the hell happened to your leg?” I asked. “How did you lose it? Who made&lt;br /&gt;you this glorious replacement?”&lt;br /&gt;Lowering his voice to an angry yet eloquent whisper, the slave declared slowly&lt;br /&gt;and patiently:&lt;br /&gt;"I lost it in a boar hunt, with my Roman Master. He saved my life. We hunted&lt;br /&gt;often. It was on Pentelikon, the mountain...”&lt;br /&gt;“I know where Pentelikon is, thank you,” I said.&lt;br /&gt;His facial expressions were elegant. He was utterly confused. He licked his&lt;br /&gt;parched lips and said:&lt;br /&gt;"Just make this merchant fetch the parchment and the ink.” He spoke his Latin&lt;br /&gt;with such beauty, the beauty of an actor or rhetorician, yet with no effort.&lt;br /&gt;“I’ll write the Amores of Ovid from memory for – you,” he said, gently pleading&lt;br /&gt;through clenched teeth, which is no mean feat. ‘And then I'll copy out all of&lt;br /&gt;Xenophon’s history of the Persians for you, if you have the time, in Greek, of&lt;br /&gt;course! My Master ' treated me like a son; I fought with him, studied with him,&lt;br /&gt;learned with him. I wrote his letters for him. His education I made my education&lt;br /&gt;because he wanted it so."&lt;br /&gt;“Ah,” I said in proud relief.&lt;br /&gt;He looked the full gentleman now, angered, caught in impossible circumstance yet&lt;br /&gt;dignified, and reasoning with just enough spirit to strengthen his own soul.&lt;br /&gt;“And in bed? Can you do it in bed'?" I asked. I can't say what rage or&lt;br /&gt;desperation prompted this question.&lt;br /&gt;He was genuinely shocked. Good sign. His eyes really widened. He furrowed his&lt;br /&gt;brow.&lt;br /&gt;Meantime the slave trader emerged with the table, stool, parchment, ink, and set&lt;br /&gt;it all down on the hot cobblestones.&lt;br /&gt;"Here, write,” he said to the slave. “Make letters for this woman. Add sums. Or&lt;br /&gt;I'll kill you and sell your leg.”&lt;br /&gt;I broke again into helpless laughing. I looked at the slave, who still stood&lt;br /&gt;dazed. He broke away from my gaze to cast a disdainful look on the merchant.&lt;br /&gt;“Are you safe around the slave girls?” I said patronizingly. "Are you a lover of&lt;br /&gt;boys?”&lt;br /&gt;“.I am completely trustworthy!” the slave said. “I am not capable of crimes for&lt;br /&gt;any Master.”&lt;br /&gt;“And what if I desire you in my bed? I'm the Mistress of the house, twice&lt;br /&gt;widowed and on my own, and I am Roman.”&lt;br /&gt;His face darkened. I couldn’t name the emotions that seemed to pass over his&lt;br /&gt;expression, the sadness, indecision, confusion and ultimate perplexity that&lt;br /&gt;transformed him.&lt;br /&gt;“Well'?" I asked.&lt;br /&gt;“Let’s put it this way, Madam. You would be much more pleased with my recitation&lt;br /&gt;of Ovid than with any attempted enactment of his verses by me.”&lt;br /&gt;"You like boys,” I said with a nod.&lt;br /&gt;“I was a born a slave, Madam. I made do with boys. I know nothing else. And I&lt;br /&gt;need neither.” His face was crimson now, and he had lowered his eyes.&lt;br /&gt;Lovely Athenian modesty.&lt;br /&gt;I gestured for him to sit down.&lt;br /&gt;This he did with amazing simplicity and grace, considering the circumstances:&lt;br /&gt;the heat, the dirt, crowds, the fragile stool and the wobbling table.&lt;br /&gt;He picked up the pen and quickly wrote in flawless Greek, “Have I foolishly&lt;br /&gt;offended this great lady of learning and exceptional patience? Have I brought&lt;br /&gt;about, through rashness, my own doom?” He wrote on in Latin, “Does Lucretius&lt;br /&gt;tell us the truth when he says that death is nothing to fear?" He thought for a&lt;br /&gt;moment, and then he wrote in Greek again, “Are Virgil and Horace really equal to&lt;br /&gt;our great poets'? Do the Romans truly believe this, or only hope it is true,&lt;br /&gt;knowing their achievements shine in other arts?"&lt;br /&gt;I read this all very thoughtfully, smiling most agreeably. I had fallen in love&lt;br /&gt;with him. I looked at his thin nose, his cleft chin, and I looked into the green&lt;br /&gt;eyes that looked up at me.&lt;br /&gt;"How did you come to this?” I asked. "A slave shop in Antioch? You’re&lt;br /&gt;Athenian-bred, just as you say,’&lt;br /&gt;He tried to stand to answer. I pushed him to sit down.&lt;br /&gt;“I can tell you nothing of that,” he said. “Only that I was much beloved by my&lt;br /&gt;Master, that my Master died in his bed with his family around him. And that here&lt;br /&gt;I am.”&lt;br /&gt;“Why didn’t he set you free in his will'?”&lt;br /&gt;“He did, Madam, and with means.”&lt;br /&gt;“What happened?”&lt;br /&gt;“I can tell you no more.”&lt;br /&gt;“Why not? Who sold you, why'?”&lt;br /&gt;"Madam,” he said, "please place a value upon my loyalty to a house in which I&lt;br /&gt;served all my life. I cannot speak more, If I become your servant, you will have&lt;br /&gt;the same loyalty from me. Your house will become my house, and sacred to me.&lt;br /&gt;What happens within your walls will remain within your walls. I speak of virtue&lt;br /&gt;and kindness in my Master because this is proper to say. Let me say no more.”&lt;br /&gt;Sublime old-Greek morality.&lt;br /&gt;“Write more, hurry!” said the slave merchant.&lt;br /&gt;“Be quiet,” I told him. “He's written quite enough."&lt;br /&gt;The handsome brown-haired slave, this enticingly beautiful one-legged man, had&lt;br /&gt;fallen into some deep pit of woe and looked towards the distant Forum, flash of&lt;br /&gt;figures back and forth over the mouth of the street.&lt;br /&gt;"What would I do as a free man?” he said to me, looking up at me from a position&lt;br /&gt;of utter careless loneliness. “Copy all day for a pittance at the booksellers?&lt;br /&gt;Write letters for coins? My Master risked his own life to save me from that&lt;br /&gt;boar. In battle I served under Tiberius in Illyricum, where with some fifteen&lt;br /&gt;legions he put down all revolts. I chopped the head off a man to save my Master.&lt;br /&gt;What am I now?”&lt;br /&gt;I was filled with pain.&lt;br /&gt;“What am I now'?" he repeated the question.&lt;br /&gt;"If I were free, I would live hand to mouth, and when I slept in some filthy&lt;br /&gt;tenement, my ivory leg would be severed and stolen!"&lt;br /&gt;I gasped and put my hand to my lips.&lt;br /&gt;His eyes filled with tears as he looked at me, and his voice became all the more&lt;br /&gt;softer, yet sharply articulate:&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, I could teach philosophy beneath the arches out there, you know, prattle on&lt;br /&gt;about Diogenes, and pretend that I liked wearing rags, as do his followers these&lt;br /&gt;days. What a circus out there, have you seen it? I have never seen so many&lt;br /&gt;philosophers in my life as in this city! Take a look when you go back. You know&lt;br /&gt;what it takes to teach philosophy here? You have to lie. You have to fling&lt;br /&gt;meaningless words as fast as you can at young people, and brood when you can’t&lt;br /&gt;answer, and make up nonsense and ascribe it to the old Stoics.”&lt;br /&gt;He broke off, and tried to gain command of himself.&lt;br /&gt;I was almost in tears as I looked down at him.&lt;br /&gt;“But you see, I have no skill at lying," he said. “That has been my undoing with&lt;br /&gt;you, Great Lady.”&lt;br /&gt;I was shattered inside, my wounds silently opened. The nerve which had carried&lt;br /&gt;me out of confinement was ebbing away. But surely he saw my tears.&lt;br /&gt;He looked towards the Forum again.&lt;br /&gt;“I dream of an honorable Master or Mistress, a house with honor. Can a slave&lt;br /&gt;through the contemplation of honor thereby have honor? The law says not. So any&lt;br /&gt;slave called to testify in a court trial must be tortured, for he has no honor!&lt;br /&gt;But reason says otherwise. I have learned and I can teach both bravery and&lt;br /&gt;honor. And yes, all of this tablet is true. I didn't have time or opportunity to&lt;br /&gt;temper its boastful style."&lt;br /&gt;He bowed his head and looked again towards the Forum, as though towards the lost&lt;br /&gt;world. He drew himself up in the chair, for bravery’s sake. Again, he tried to&lt;br /&gt;stand.&lt;br /&gt;"No, sit,” I said.&lt;br /&gt;"Madam," he said, “if you seek my services for a house of ill repute, let me&lt;br /&gt;tell you now... if it is to torture and force young girls such as those you just&lt;br /&gt;purchased, if you order me to advertise their charms abroad, I won’t do it. It&lt;br /&gt;is as dishonorable to me as to steal or to lie. Why do you want me?"&lt;br /&gt;The tears were halted, merely resting between him and his vision of the world&lt;br /&gt;around him. His face was serene.&lt;br /&gt;“Do I look as if I am a whore?” I asked him with shock. “Yea gods, I wore all my&lt;br /&gt;best clothes. I’m doing my best to look revoltingly respectable in all these&lt;br /&gt;fancy silks! Do you see cruelty in my eyes? Can’t you believe that it is perhaps&lt;br /&gt;the tempered soul that survives grief? One need not fight on a battlefield to&lt;br /&gt;have courage.”&lt;br /&gt;“No, Madam, no!” he said. He was so very sorry.&lt;br /&gt;“Then why fling these insults at me now?” I said, full of hurt. “And no, I agree&lt;br /&gt;with you, what you've written there, our Roman poets are not the equals of the&lt;br /&gt;Greeks. I don’t know our destiny as an Empire and this weighs as heavily on me&lt;br /&gt;as it ever did on my Father and his Father! Why'? I don’t know!" I turned as if&lt;br /&gt;to go, but I had really no intention of going! His insults had simply gone too&lt;br /&gt;far.&lt;br /&gt;He bent towards me over the writing table.&lt;br /&gt;“Madam,” he said whispering even lower and with greater solicitude. “Forgive me&lt;br /&gt;my rash words. You are absolutely a paradox. Your face is eccentrically painted,&lt;br /&gt;and I think the lip rouge is not properly set. You have rouge on your teeth. You&lt;br /&gt;have no powder on your arms. You wear three dresses of silk and I can see&lt;br /&gt;through all of them! Your hair is in two barbarian-style braids lying on your&lt;br /&gt;shoulders, and you are raining little silver and gold pins galore. Look at these&lt;br /&gt;little pins falling. Madam, you will be hurt by these pins. Your mantle, more&lt;br /&gt;appropriate for evening, has fallen on the ground. Your hems drag in the dirt."&lt;br /&gt;Not missing a beat of his speech, he reached down deftly and picked up the&lt;br /&gt;palla, standing at once to offer it to me, coming round the table with a heavy&lt;br /&gt;shift of his leg, to lay the palla on my shoulders.&lt;br /&gt;“You speak with miraculous speed, and stunning gibes,” he went on, “yet you&lt;br /&gt;carry a huge dagger in your girdle. It should be hidden on your forearm under&lt;br /&gt;your mantle. And your purse. You take gold out of it to pay the girls. It's&lt;br /&gt;huge, carelessly visible. And your hands, your hands are beautiful, fine as your&lt;br /&gt;Latin and your Greek, but they are deeply creased with dirt as though you have&lt;br /&gt;been digging in the Earth itself.”&lt;br /&gt;I smiled. I had stopped my tears.&lt;br /&gt;“You are very observant,” I said cheerfully. I was charmed. "Why did I have to&lt;br /&gt;cut you so deeply to find your soul? Why can’t we simply reveal ourselves to one&lt;br /&gt;another? I need a strong steward, a guardian who can bear arms, run my house and&lt;br /&gt;protect it because I am alone. Can you really see through all this silk?”&lt;br /&gt;He nodded. “Well, now that the mantle is over your shoulders and hiding the...&lt;br /&gt;the dagger and the girdle – ”He blushed. Then as I smiled at him, trying to&lt;br /&gt;regain my calm, trying to fight back the engulfing darkness that would take away&lt;br /&gt;all confidence from me, all faith in any task, he spoke on.&lt;br /&gt;“Madam, we learn to hide our souls because we are betrayed by others. But I&lt;br /&gt;would entrust to you my soul! I know it, if you would reconsider your judgment!&lt;br /&gt;I can protect you, I can run your house. I will not molest your little girls.&lt;br /&gt;But mark, for all my time fighting in Illyricum I have one leg. I came home from&lt;br /&gt;three years of bloody constant battle to lose it to a boar because a spear,&lt;br /&gt;poorly tempered and made, broke as I thrust it into the boar.”&lt;br /&gt;"What's your name?” I asked.&lt;br /&gt;“Flavius," he answered. This was a Roman name.&lt;br /&gt;“Flavius,” I said.&lt;br /&gt;“Madam, the palla is slipping again from your head. And these little pins, they&lt;br /&gt;are sharp, they are everywhere, they’ll hurt you.”&lt;br /&gt;“Never mind that,” I said, though I let him drape me again properly as if he&lt;br /&gt;were Pygmalion, and I his Galatea. He used the tips of his fingers. But the&lt;br /&gt;mantle was already soiled.&lt;br /&gt;“Those girls,” I said, “whom you glimpsed. They are my household, as of the past&lt;br /&gt;half-hour. You have to be their loving master. But if you lie in any woman’s bed&lt;br /&gt;under my roof, the bed had better be mine. I am flesh and blood!”&lt;br /&gt;He nodded, at a total loss for words.&lt;br /&gt;I pulled open my purse and took out what I thought to pay, a reasonable price in&lt;br /&gt;Rome, I thought, where slaves were always bragging about how much they had cost.&lt;br /&gt;I laid down the gold, oblivious to the imprint of the coin, only gauging the&lt;br /&gt;value.&lt;br /&gt;The slave stared at me with ever increasing fascination, then his eyes whipped&lt;br /&gt;the merchant.&lt;br /&gt;The slimy, merciless, weasling slave trader puffed up like a toad and told me&lt;br /&gt;this priceless Greek scholar was to be auctioned for a high price. Several rich&lt;br /&gt;men had expressed interest. An entire school class was to question him within&lt;br /&gt;the hour. Roman officers had sent their stewards to inspect him.&lt;br /&gt;“I have no more stamina for it,” I said, and reached in my purse again.&lt;br /&gt;At once, my new slave Flavius put his hand out gents to prevent me.&lt;br /&gt;He glared at the merchant with great authority and fearless contempt.&lt;br /&gt;“For a man with one leg!” said Flavius between his teeth. “You thief! You charge&lt;br /&gt;my Mistress that, here in Antioch, where slaves are so plentiful the ships take&lt;br /&gt;them on to Rome, for it’s the only way to cut their losses!"&lt;br /&gt;I was quite impressed. All had gone so well. The darkness flowed back away from&lt;br /&gt;me, and there seemed for the moment a divine meaning in the warmth of the sun.&lt;br /&gt;“You cheat my Mistress and you know it! You’re the scum of the Earth!” he went&lt;br /&gt;on. “Madam, do we ever purchase from this scoundrel again? I advise never!"&lt;br /&gt;The slave trader broke into an inane smile, a hideous grimace of cowardice and&lt;br /&gt;stupidity, bowed and gave me back a third of what I’d given him.&lt;br /&gt;I could hardly keep from another burst of laughing. I had to fetch the mantle&lt;br /&gt;from the ground again. Flavius did it. This time, I knotted it properly in&lt;br /&gt;front.&lt;br /&gt;I looked at the gold which had been returned, scooped it up, entrusted it to&lt;br /&gt;Flavius and off we went.&lt;br /&gt;When we had plunged into the thick crowd in the center of the Forum I did laugh&lt;br /&gt;and laugh at the whole affair.&lt;br /&gt;“Well, Flavius, you’re protecting me already, saving me money, giving me&lt;br /&gt;excellent advice. If there were more men like you in Rome, the world might be&lt;br /&gt;better for it."&lt;br /&gt;He was choked up. He couldn’t talk. It was an effort to whisper:&lt;br /&gt;“Lady, you have on trust my body and soul forever.”&lt;br /&gt;I went up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. I realized that his nakedness, the&lt;br /&gt;filth of the loincloth, all this was a disgrace he bore without a sign of&lt;br /&gt;protest.&lt;br /&gt;“Here," I said, giving him some money. “Take the girls home, put them to work,&lt;br /&gt;then you go to the baths. Get clean. Get Roman clean. Have a boy if you want.&lt;br /&gt;Have two. Then buy fine clothes for yourself, not slave clothes, mind you, but&lt;br /&gt;clothes that you would buy for a rich young Roman Master!”&lt;br /&gt;“Madam, please hide that purse!” he said as he took the coins. "And what is my&lt;br /&gt;Mistress’s name'? To whom shall I say I belong, if asked.”&lt;br /&gt;“To Pandora of Athens,” I said. “Though you shall have to fill me in on the&lt;br /&gt;current state of my birthplace, because I have never actually been there. But a&lt;br /&gt;Greek name serves me well. Now, go. See, the girls watch!”&lt;br /&gt;Lots of people were watching. Oh, this red silk! And Flavius was such a splendid&lt;br /&gt;figure of a male.&lt;br /&gt;I kissed him again, and whispered in his ear, calculatingly, devil that I am, “I&lt;br /&gt;need you, Flavius.”&lt;br /&gt;He looked down at me, awestruck. "I am yours forever, Madam,” he whispered.&lt;br /&gt;“Are you sure you can't do with me in bed!”&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, believe me, I have tried!” he confessed, flushing again.&lt;br /&gt;I made my hand into a fist and punched his muscular arm.&lt;br /&gt;“Very well," I said.&lt;br /&gt;The damsels had already risen, at my gesture. They knew I sent him to them.&lt;br /&gt;I gave him my key, the directions to my house, described the particularities of&lt;br /&gt;its gate, and the old bronze lion fountain right inside the gate.&lt;br /&gt;“And you, Madam?" he asked. "You’re going in the crowd unaccompanied? Madam, the&lt;br /&gt;purse is huge! It’s full of gold.”&lt;br /&gt;"Wait till you see the gold in the house,” I said. “Appoint yourself the only&lt;br /&gt;one who can open chests, and then hide them in obvious places. Replace all the&lt;br /&gt;furniture I've smashed in my... my solitude. There are many pieces stored in&lt;br /&gt;rooms above.”&lt;br /&gt;“Gold in the house!” He was alarmed. “Chests of gold!”&lt;br /&gt;“Now, don’t worry about me,” I said. “I know where to seek help now. And if you&lt;br /&gt;betray me, if you steal my legacy and I find my house ruined when I return, I&lt;br /&gt;suppose I shall have deserved it. Cover up the chests of gold with carpets. The&lt;br /&gt;place has heaps of little Persian carpets. Look upstairs. And tend to the&lt;br /&gt;Shrine!”&lt;br /&gt;“I shall do everything you ask and more.”&lt;br /&gt;“So I thought. A man who cannot lie cannot steal. Now the sun is intolerable&lt;br /&gt;here. Go to the girls. They wait."&lt;br /&gt;I turned.&lt;br /&gt;He caught me by coming round in, front of me.&lt;br /&gt;“Madam, there is something I must tell you.”&lt;br /&gt;“What!” I said with an ominous face. “Not that you’re a eunuch,” I said.&lt;br /&gt;“Eunuchs don’t grow muscles in their arms and legs like that."&lt;br /&gt;"No," he said. Then he took on a sudden gravity. "Ovid, you spoke of Ovid. Ovid&lt;br /&gt;is dead. Ovid died two years ago in the wretched town of Tomis on the upper rim&lt;br /&gt;of the Black Sea. It was a miserable choice of exile, a barbarian outpost.”&lt;br /&gt;“No one told me this. What a revolting silence.” I threw up my hands over my&lt;br /&gt;face. The mantle fell. He retrieved it. I scarce noticed. “I had so prayed that&lt;br /&gt;Tiberius would let Ovid come back to Rome!" I told myself I had no time to stop&lt;br /&gt;for this. “Ovid. No time to weep for him now..."&lt;br /&gt;“His books are no doubt plentiful here,” Flavius said. "They are very easily&lt;br /&gt;found in Athens."&lt;br /&gt;“Good, perhaps you will have time to find some for me. Now, I'm off; pins or&lt;br /&gt;tumbled braids or sliding mantle, I do not care. And don’t look so worried. When&lt;br /&gt;you leave the house, just lock up the girls and the gold."&lt;br /&gt;When I finally turned around he was making his way rather gracefully towards the&lt;br /&gt;girls. The sun rippled prettily on his well-muscled back. His hair was curly and&lt;br /&gt;brown, rather like my own. He stopped for one moment when a vendor attacked him&lt;br /&gt;with an armful of cheaply made tunics, cloaks and whatnot, more than likely&lt;br /&gt;stolen goods, full of dye that would run in the first rain, but who knows? He&lt;br /&gt;bought a tunic hastily and slipped it over his head, and purchasing a red sash,&lt;br /&gt;tied it around his waist.&lt;br /&gt;Such a transformation. The tunic went halfway to his knees. That must have been&lt;br /&gt;a great relief to him, to have on something clean. I should have thought of this&lt;br /&gt;before I left him. Stupid.&lt;br /&gt;I admired him. Naked or clothed, you can’t carry such beauty and dignity unless&lt;br /&gt;you have been cherished. He wore the raiment of the affection bestowed on him&lt;br /&gt;and inscribed in the art of his ivory leg.&lt;br /&gt;In our brief encounter, a bond had been forged forever.&lt;br /&gt;He greeted the girls. With his arms around them, he guided them out of the&lt;br /&gt;crowd.&lt;br /&gt;I went straight to the Temple of Isis, and thereby, unwittingly, took the first&lt;br /&gt;firm step towards a larcenous immortality, an inglorious and unearned&lt;br /&gt;supernature, a never ending and utterly useless doom.&lt;br /&gt;5&lt;br /&gt;As soon as I entered the Temple Compound I was received by several rich Roman&lt;br /&gt;women, who welcomed me generously. They were all properly painted with white on&lt;br /&gt;their arms and their faces, well-drawn eyebrows, lip color – all the details of&lt;br /&gt;which I’d made a hash that morning.&lt;br /&gt;I explained that though I had means, I was on my own. They were for helping me&lt;br /&gt;in every way. When&lt;br /&gt;they heard I had been actually initiated in Rome, they were in awe.&lt;br /&gt;“Thank Mother Isis they didn’t discover you and execute you,” said one of the&lt;br /&gt;Roman women.&lt;br /&gt;“Go in and see the Priestess,” they said. Many of them had not yet undergone the&lt;br /&gt;secret ceremonies&lt;br /&gt;and were waiting to be called by the goddess for this momentous event. There&lt;br /&gt;were many other women here, some Egyptian, some Babylonian perhaps. I could only&lt;br /&gt;guess. Jewels and silks were the order of the day. Fancy painted gold borders&lt;br /&gt;lined their mantles; some wore simple dresses.&lt;br /&gt;But it seemed to me that all of them spoke Greek.&lt;br /&gt;I couldn’t bring myself to enter the Temple. I looked up and saw in my mind our&lt;br /&gt;crucified Priests in Rome.&lt;br /&gt;“Thank God you were not identified,” said one.&lt;br /&gt;“Quite a few people fled to Alexandria,” said another.&lt;br /&gt;“I raised no protest,” I said dismally.&lt;br /&gt;There came a chorus of sympathy. "How could you, under Tiberius? Believe me,&lt;br /&gt;every one who could escaped.”&lt;br /&gt;"Don’t be laden with misery,” said a young blue-eyed Greek woman, very properly&lt;br /&gt;dressed.&lt;br /&gt;"I’d fallen away from the worship," I said.&lt;br /&gt;Again came a comforting round of soft voices.&lt;br /&gt;“Go in now,” said one woman, “and ask to pray in the very sanctuary of Our&lt;br /&gt;Mother. You are an initiate. Most of us here are not."&lt;br /&gt;I nodded.&lt;br /&gt;I went up the steps of the Temple and entered inside it.&lt;br /&gt;I paused to shake from my mantle the mundane, that is, all the trivia I had&lt;br /&gt;discussed. My mind was focused upon the goddess, and desperate to believe in&lt;br /&gt;her. I loathed my hypocrisy, that I used this Temple and this worship, but then&lt;br /&gt;it didn’t seem significant. My despair of the three nights had penetrated too&lt;br /&gt;deep.&lt;br /&gt;What a shock awaited me as I found myself inside.&lt;br /&gt;The Temple was far more ancient than our Temple in Rome, and Egyptian paintings&lt;br /&gt;covered its walls. A shiver at once went through me. The columns were in the&lt;br /&gt;Egyptian style, not fluted but smoothly round, and brightly painted in orange,&lt;br /&gt;and rising to giant lotus leaves at the capitals. The smell of the incense was&lt;br /&gt;overpowering and I could hear music emanating from the Sanctuary. I could hear&lt;br /&gt;the thin notes of the lyre, and of the wires of the sistrum being plucked, and I&lt;br /&gt;could hear a litany being chanted.&lt;br /&gt;But this was a thoroughly Egyptian place, which enveloped me as firmly as my&lt;br /&gt;blood dreams. I almost fainted.&lt;br /&gt;The dreams came back – the deep paralytic sense of being in some secret&lt;br /&gt;Sanctuary in Egypt, my soul swallowed within another body!&lt;br /&gt;The Priestess came to me. This too was a shock.&lt;br /&gt;In Rome, her dress would have been purely Roman, and she might have worn a small&lt;br /&gt;exotic headdress, a little cap to her shoulders, perhaps.&lt;br /&gt;But this woman wore Egyptian clothes of pleated linen, in the old style, and she&lt;br /&gt;wore a magnificent Egyptian headdress and wig, the broad mass of long black&lt;br /&gt;braids falling down stiffly over her shoulders. She looked as extravagant&lt;br /&gt;perhaps as Cleopatra had ever looked, for all I knew.&lt;br /&gt;I had only heard stories of Julius Caesar’s love of Cleopatra, then her affair&lt;br /&gt;with Mark Antony and Cleopatra’s death. All that was before my birth.&lt;br /&gt;But I knew that Cleopatra’s fabulous entrance into Rome had much affrighted the&lt;br /&gt;old Roman sense of morality. I had always known the old Roman families feared&lt;br /&gt;Egyptian magic, In the recent punitive Roman massacre, which I’ve described,&lt;br /&gt;there was a lot of shouting about license and lust; but beneath it, there had&lt;br /&gt;been an unspoken fear of the mystery and the power hidden behind the Temple&lt;br /&gt;doors.&lt;br /&gt;And now as I gazed at this Priestess, at her painted eyes, I felt in my soul&lt;br /&gt;this fear. I knew it. Of course this woman seemed to have stepped from the&lt;br /&gt;dreams, but it was not that which struck me so much, for after all, what are&lt;br /&gt;dreams? This was an Egyptian woman – wholly alien and inscrutable to me.&lt;br /&gt;My Isis had been Greco-Roman. Even her statue in the Roman Sanctuary had been&lt;br /&gt;clothed in a gorgeously draped Greek dress and her hair had been done softy in&lt;br /&gt;the old Greek style, with waves around her face. She had held her sistrum and an&lt;br /&gt;urn. She had been a Romanized goddess.&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps the same had happened with the goddess Cybele in Rome. Rome swallowed&lt;br /&gt;things and made them Roman.&lt;br /&gt;In a very few centuries, though I had no thought of it then – how could I – Rome&lt;br /&gt;would swallow and shape the followers of Jesus of Nazareth, and make of his&lt;br /&gt;Christians the Roman Catholic church.&lt;br /&gt;I suppose you are familiar with the modern expression, “When in Rome, do as the&lt;br /&gt;Romans do.”&lt;br /&gt;But here, in this reddish gloom, among flickering lights and a deeper muskier&lt;br /&gt;incense than I had ever smelled, I resented my timidity in silence. Then the&lt;br /&gt;dreams did descend, like so many veils lowered one by one to enclose me. In a&lt;br /&gt;flash I saw the beautiful Queen weeping. No. She screamed. Cried for help.&lt;br /&gt;"Get away from me,” I whispered to the air around me. “Fly from me, all things&lt;br /&gt;that are impure and evil. Get away from me as I enter the house of my Blessed&lt;br /&gt;Mother."&lt;br /&gt;The Priestess took me in hand. I heard voices from my dream in violent argument.&lt;br /&gt;I strained to dear my vision, to see the worshipers coming and going towards the&lt;br /&gt;Sanctuary to meditate or to make sacrifice, to ask for some favor. I tried to&lt;br /&gt;realize it was a big busy crowd, very little different from Rome.&lt;br /&gt;But the touch of the Priestess enfeebled me. Her painted eyes struck terror. Her&lt;br /&gt;broad necklace caused me to blink my eyes. Row upon row of flat stones.&lt;br /&gt;I was taken into a private apartment of the Temple by her, offered a sumptuous&lt;br /&gt;couch. I lay back exhausted. “Fly from me, all things evil,” I whispered.&lt;br /&gt;"Including dreams.”&lt;br /&gt;The Priestess sat beside me and enfolded me in her silken arms. I looked up into&lt;br /&gt;a mask!&lt;br /&gt;“Talk to me, suffering one,” she said in Latin with a thick accent. "Speak all&lt;br /&gt;that must come forth.”&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly – uncontrollably – I poured out my whole family story, the annihilation&lt;br /&gt;of my family, my guilt, my travails.&lt;br /&gt;“What if I was the cause of my family’s downfall – my worship at the Temple of&lt;br /&gt;Isis? What if Tiberius had remembered it? What have I done? The Priests were&lt;br /&gt;crucified and I did nothing. What does Mother Isis want of me? I want to die.”&lt;br /&gt;“That she does not want of you,” said the Priestess, staring at me. Her eyes&lt;br /&gt;were huge, or was it the paint? No, I could see the whites of her eyes, so&lt;br /&gt;glistening and pure. Her painted mouth let loose words like a tiny breeze in a&lt;br /&gt;monotone.&lt;br /&gt;I was fast becoming delirious and totally unreasonable. I murmured what I could&lt;br /&gt;about my initiation, what details I could tell a Priestess, for all these things&lt;br /&gt;were highly secret, you know, but I confirmed for her that I had been reborn in&lt;br /&gt;the rites.&lt;br /&gt;All the stored-up weakness in me was cut loose in a flood.&lt;br /&gt;Then I lay down my guilt. I confessed that I had, early on, left the Cult of&lt;br /&gt;Isis, that in recent years, I had walked only in the public processions to the&lt;br /&gt;sea, when the goddess was carried to the shore to bless the ships. Isis, the&lt;br /&gt;goddess of Navigation. I had not lived a life of devotion.&lt;br /&gt;I had done nothing when the Priests of Isis were crucified, except speak out&lt;br /&gt;with many others behind the Emperor’s back. There had been a solidarity between&lt;br /&gt;me and those Romans who thought Tiberius was a monster, but we had not raised&lt;br /&gt;our voices in defense of Isis. My Father had told me to remain silent. So I had.&lt;br /&gt;This was the same Father who had told me to live.&lt;br /&gt;I turned over and slipped down off this couch and I lay on the tiled floor. I&lt;br /&gt;don’t know why. I pressed my cheek to the cold tile. I liked the coldness&lt;br /&gt;against my face. I was in a state of madness, but not an uncontrollable state. I&lt;br /&gt;lay staring.&lt;br /&gt;I knew one thing. I wanted to get out of this Temple! I didn't like it. No, this&lt;br /&gt;had been a very bad idea.&lt;br /&gt;I hated myself suddenly for having become so vulnerable to this woman, whatever&lt;br /&gt;sort she was, and the atmosphere of the blood dreams beckoned to me.&lt;br /&gt;I opened my eyes. The Priestess bent over me. I saw the weeping Queen of my&lt;br /&gt;nightmares. I turned away and shut my eyes.&lt;br /&gt;"Be at peace,” she said in her calculated and perfected voice. "You did nothing&lt;br /&gt;wrong,” said the Priestess.&lt;br /&gt;It seemed preposterous that such a voice should issue from such a painted face&lt;br /&gt;and form, but the voice was definite.&lt;br /&gt;“First,” the Priestess said, “you must understand that Mother Isis forgives&lt;br /&gt;anything. She is the Mother of Mercy.” Then she said, “You have been more fully&lt;br /&gt;initiated by your description than most here or anywhere. You made a long fast.&lt;br /&gt;You bathed in the sacred blood of the bull. You must have drunk the potion. You&lt;br /&gt;dreamed and saw yourself reborn.”&lt;br /&gt;“Yes,” I said, trying to revive the old ecstasy, the priceless gift of belief in&lt;br /&gt;something. “Yes. I saw the stars and great fields of flowers, such fields..."&lt;br /&gt;It was no good. I was scared of this woman and I wanted to get out of there. I’d&lt;br /&gt;go home and confess all this to Flavius and make him let me weep on his&lt;br /&gt;shoulder.&lt;br /&gt;“I am not pious by nature,” I confessed. “I was young. I loved the free women&lt;br /&gt;who went there, the women who slept with whom they chose, the whores of Rome,&lt;br /&gt;the keepers of the houses of pleasure, I liked women who thought for themselves,&lt;br /&gt;and followed the goings-on of the Empire.”&lt;br /&gt;“You can enjoy such company here as well,” said the Priestess, without batting&lt;br /&gt;an eye. “And don’t fear that your old ties to the Temple caused your downfall in&lt;br /&gt;Rome. We have plenty of news to confirm that the highborn were not persecuted by&lt;br /&gt;Tiberius when he destroyed the Temple. It is always the poor who suffer: the&lt;br /&gt;street whore and the simple weaver, the hairdresser, the bricklayer. No noble&lt;br /&gt;family was persecuted in the name of Isis. You know that. Some women fled to&lt;br /&gt;Alexandria because they would not give up the worship, but they were never in&lt;br /&gt;danger,”&lt;br /&gt;The dreams approached. “Oh, Mother of God,” I whispered.&lt;br /&gt;The Priestess went on talking.&lt;br /&gt;“You, like Mother Isis, have been the victim of tragedy. And you, like Mother&lt;br /&gt;Isis, must take strength and walk alone, as Isis did when her husband, Osiris,&lt;br /&gt;was slain. Who helped her when she searched all over Egypt for the body of her&lt;br /&gt;murdered husband, Osiris? She walked alone. She is the greatest of the&lt;br /&gt;goddesses. When she recovered the body of her husband, Osiris, and could find no&lt;br /&gt;organ of generation for him with which she might be impregnated, she drew the&lt;br /&gt;semen right from his spirit. Thus, the god Horus was born of a woman and a god.&lt;br /&gt;It was the power of Isis who drew the spirit from the dead man. It is Isis who&lt;br /&gt;tricked the god Ra into revealing his name."&lt;br /&gt;That was the old tale all right.&lt;br /&gt;I looked away from the Priestess. I was unable to look at her decorated face!&lt;br /&gt;Surely she felt my revulsion. I must not hurt her. She meant well. It wasn’t her&lt;br /&gt;fault that she looked to me like a monster. Why in hell had I come here!&lt;br /&gt;I lay dazed. The room had a soft golden light coming mainly through its three&lt;br /&gt;doors, and they were cut Egyptian-style, these doors, wider at the base than at&lt;br /&gt;the top, and I let this light make a blur of my vision. I asked the light to do&lt;br /&gt;this.&lt;br /&gt;I felt the Priestess’s hand. Such silken warmth. So lovely, her touch, her&lt;br /&gt;sweetness.&lt;br /&gt;“Do you believe all of it!” I suddenly whispered.&lt;br /&gt;She completely ignored this question. Her painted mask gave forth the creed.&lt;br /&gt;“You must be like Mother Isis. Depend on no one. You don’t have the burden of&lt;br /&gt;recovering a lost husband or father. You are free. Receive into your house men&lt;br /&gt;with love as you choose. You belong to no one but Mother Isis. Remember, Isis is&lt;br /&gt;the goddess who loves, the goddess who forgives, the goddess of infinite&lt;br /&gt;understanding because she herself has suffered!”&lt;br /&gt;"Suffered!" I gasped. I moaned, a very uncommon sound for me, most of my life.&lt;br /&gt;But I saw the weeping Queen of my nightmares, bound to her throne,&lt;br /&gt;“Listen to this,” I said, "the dreams I will now recount, and then tell me why&lt;br /&gt;it is happening.” I knew my voice sounded angry. I was sorry for it. "These&lt;br /&gt;dreams don’t come from wine or potions, or after long periods of wakefulness&lt;br /&gt;that twist the mind.”&lt;br /&gt;Then I launched into another totally unplanned confession.&lt;br /&gt;I told this woman of the blood dreams, the dreams of ancient Egypt in which I&lt;br /&gt;had drunk blood – the altar, the Temple, the desert, the sun rising.&lt;br /&gt;"Amon Ra!” I said. This was the Egyptian name for the sun god, but I had never&lt;br /&gt;spoken it to my knowledge. I said it now. “Yes, Isis tricked him into revealing&lt;br /&gt;his name, but he killed me and I was her blood drinker, do you hear me, a&lt;br /&gt;thirsty god!”&lt;br /&gt;“No!” said the Priestess. She sat motionless.&lt;br /&gt;She thought for a long while. I had scared her and now this scared me all the&lt;br /&gt;more.&lt;br /&gt;“Can you read the ancient picture writing of Egypt?” she asked.&lt;br /&gt;"No,” I said.&lt;br /&gt;Then she said, in a more relaxed and vulnerable tone:&lt;br /&gt;"You speak of very old legends, legends buried in the history of our worship of&lt;br /&gt;Isis and Osiris; that they once did indeed take the blood of their victims as&lt;br /&gt;sacrifice. There are scrolls here that tell of this. But nobody can really&lt;br /&gt;decipher them, except for one...”&lt;br /&gt;Her voice trailed off.&lt;br /&gt;"Who is the one?” I asked. I sat up on my elbows. I realized the plaits of my&lt;br /&gt;hair had come undone. Good. It felt good because it was free now and clean. I&lt;br /&gt;raked my hair with both hands.&lt;br /&gt;What did it feel like to be entombed in paint and wig like this Priestess?&lt;br /&gt;“Tell me," I said, “who is the one who can read these legends. Tell me!"&lt;br /&gt;“These are evil tales,” she said, "that Isis herself and Osiris live on,&lt;br /&gt;somewhere, in material form, taking blood even now.” She made an expression of&lt;br /&gt;denial and disgust. “But this is not our worship! We sacrifice no humans here!&lt;br /&gt;Egypt was old and wise before Rome was born!"&lt;br /&gt;Who was she trying to convince? MD&lt;br /&gt;"I’ve never had such dreams, in a string like this, with the same theme.”&lt;br /&gt;She became very worked up with her declarations.&lt;br /&gt;“Our Mother Isis has no taste for blood. She has conquered death and set her&lt;br /&gt;husband Osiris as King of the Dead, but for us, she is life itself. She didn’t&lt;br /&gt;send you these dreams.”&lt;br /&gt;“Probably not! I agree with you. But then who did? Where do they come from? Why&lt;br /&gt;did they pursue me at sea'? Who is this one who can read the old writing?”&lt;br /&gt;She was shaken. She had let go of me and she stared off, her eyes taking on a&lt;br /&gt;deceptive ferocity due to the black lining.&lt;br /&gt;“Perhaps somewhere in childhood you heard an old tale, maybe an old Egyptian&lt;br /&gt;Priest told it to you. You forgot it, and now it flames in your tortured mind.&lt;br /&gt;It feeds on fires to which it has no right – your Father’s death.”&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, well, I certainly hope so, but I've never known an old Egyptian. At the&lt;br /&gt;Temple, the Priests were Roman. Besides, if we take the dreams and lay them out,&lt;br /&gt;what is the pattern there? Why is the Queen weeping? Why does the sun kill me?&lt;br /&gt;The Queen is in fetters. The Queen is a prisoner. The Queen is in agony!”&lt;br /&gt;“Stop.” The Priestess shuddered. Then she put her arms around me, as if it was&lt;br /&gt;she who needed me. I felt her stiff linen and the thick hair of her wig, and&lt;br /&gt;beneath it the hurried pounding of her heart. “No,“ she said. "You’re possessed&lt;br /&gt;of a demon, and we can drive this demon out of you! Maybe the way was opened for&lt;br /&gt;this wretched demon when your Father was attacked at his own Hearth.”&lt;br /&gt;"You really believe it’s possible?” I asked.&lt;br /&gt;“Listen,” she said as casually now as one of the women outside. “I want you to&lt;br /&gt;be bathed, to have fresh garments. This money, what portion can you give me? If&lt;br /&gt;none, we will provide all for you. We are rich here."&lt;br /&gt;“Here’s plenty. I don’t care." I pulled the purse loose from my girdle.&lt;br /&gt;“I will have everything done for you. Fresh clothes. This silk is too fragile.”&lt;br /&gt;“You are telling me!” I said.&lt;br /&gt;“This mantle is torn. Your hair is uncombed."&lt;br /&gt;I spilled out a dozen or so gold coins, more than I had paid for Flavius.&lt;br /&gt;It shocked her, but she covered up the shock very quickly. Suddenly she stared&lt;br /&gt;at me, and her painted mask managed to make a flexible expression, a frown. I&lt;br /&gt;thought it might crack.&lt;br /&gt;I thought she might weep. I was becoming a regular expert in making people weep.&lt;br /&gt;Mia and Lia had wept. Flavius had wept. Now she was going to cry. The Queen in&lt;br /&gt;the dream was crying!&lt;br /&gt;I laughed in madness, throwing back my head, but then I saw the Queen! I saw her&lt;br /&gt;in distant wavery recollection, and I felt such sorrow that I too could have&lt;br /&gt;cried. My mockery was blasphemy. It was a lie unto myself.&lt;br /&gt;“Take the gold for the Temple,” I said. "Take it for new clothes, for all I&lt;br /&gt;need. But my offering to the goddess, I want it to be flowers, and bread, warm&lt;br /&gt;from the oven, a small loaf.”&lt;br /&gt;“Very good," she said with an eager nod. "That is what Isis wants. She wants no&lt;br /&gt;blood. No! No blood!"&lt;br /&gt;She started to help me up.&lt;br /&gt;I paused. “In the dream, you understand that she weeps. She is not happy with&lt;br /&gt;these blood drinkers, she protests, she objects. She herself is not the one who&lt;br /&gt;drinks blood."&lt;br /&gt;The Priestess was confounded, and then she nodded. “Yes, that is obvious, is it&lt;br /&gt;not?”&lt;br /&gt;“I too protest and suer,” I said.&lt;br /&gt;“Yes, come,” she said leading me through a thick tall door. She left me in the&lt;br /&gt;hands of the Temple slaves. I was relieved. I was weary.&lt;br /&gt;I was taken into the ceremonial bath, cleansed by Temple maidens and re-dressed&lt;br /&gt;carefully by Temple maidens.&lt;br /&gt;What a pleasure to have it all done right.&lt;br /&gt;For a little while I wondered helplessly if they would frame me in white pleats&lt;br /&gt;and black plaits but they used the Roman style.&lt;br /&gt;My hair was properly done by these girls in a correct circlet that would hold,&lt;br /&gt;leaving a generous frame of ringlets around the face.&lt;br /&gt;The clothes given me were new and made of fine linen. Flowers had been stitched&lt;br /&gt;along the borders. This finery, so precise, so minute, seemed more valuable than&lt;br /&gt;gold.&lt;br /&gt;It certainly gave more joy to me than gold.&lt;br /&gt;I felt so tired! I was so grateful.&lt;br /&gt;The girls then made up my face more artfully than I could have done it, and more&lt;br /&gt;in the Egyptian style, and I flinched when I saw myself in the mirror. –&lt;br /&gt;Flinched. It wasn’t the full paint of the Priestess, but my eyes were rimmed&lt;br /&gt;with black.&lt;br /&gt;“How dare I complain?” I whispered.&lt;br /&gt;I put down the mirror. One doesn't have to see oneself, fortunately.&lt;br /&gt;I emerged into the great hall of the Temple, a proper Roman woman, with the&lt;br /&gt;extravagant face paint of the East. A common sight in Antioch.&lt;br /&gt;I found the Priestess with two others, as formally dressed as she, and a Priest&lt;br /&gt;who wore the same oldfashioned Egyptian headdress, only he wore no wig, just a&lt;br /&gt;striped hood. His tunic was short, pleated. He turned and glared at me as I came&lt;br /&gt;forward.&lt;br /&gt;Fear. Crushing fear. Flee this place! Forget about the offering, or have them&lt;br /&gt;make it for you. Go home. Flavius is waiting. Get out!&lt;br /&gt;I was struck dumb. I let the Priest draw me aside.&lt;br /&gt;“Pay attention,” he said to me gently. "I will take you now into the holy place.&lt;br /&gt;I will let you talk to the Mother. But when you come out, you must come to me!&lt;br /&gt;Don’t leave without coming to me. You must promise me, you will return each day,&lt;br /&gt;and if you have more of these dreams, you will lay them before us. There is one&lt;br /&gt;to whom they should be told, that is, unless the goddess drives them from your&lt;br /&gt;mind."&lt;br /&gt;“Of course I will tell anyone who can help,” I said. “I hate these dreams. But&lt;br /&gt;why are you so anxious? Are you afraid of me?”&lt;br /&gt;He shook his head. "I don't fear you, but there is something I must confide to&lt;br /&gt;you. I must talk to you either today or tomorrow, I must speak with you. Go now&lt;br /&gt;to the Mother, then come to me.”&lt;br /&gt;The others led me to the chamber of the Sanctuary; there were white linen&lt;br /&gt;curtains before the shrine. I saw my sacrifice lying there, a great garland of&lt;br /&gt;sweet-smelling white flowers, and the warm loaf of bread. I knelt. The curtains&lt;br /&gt;were pulled back by unseen hands and I found myself alone in the chamber&lt;br /&gt;kneeling before the Regina Caeli, the Queen of Heaven.&lt;br /&gt;Another shock.&lt;br /&gt;This was an ancient Egyptian statue of our Isis, carved from dark basalt. Her&lt;br /&gt;headdress was long, narrow, pushed behind her ears. On her head she wore a great&lt;br /&gt;disk between horns. Her breasts were bare. On her lap sat the adult Pharaoh, her&lt;br /&gt;son Horus. She held her left breast to offer him her milk.&lt;br /&gt;I was struck with despair! This image meant nothing to me! I groped for the&lt;br /&gt;essence of Isis in this image.&lt;br /&gt;"Did you send me the dreams, Mother!” I whispered.&lt;br /&gt;I laid out the flowers. I broke the bread.&lt;br /&gt;I heard nothing in the silence from the serene and ancient statue.&lt;br /&gt;I prostrated myself on the floor, stretching out my arms. And from the depths of&lt;br /&gt;my soul, I struggled to say, I accept, I believe, I am yours, I need you, I need&lt;br /&gt;you!&lt;br /&gt;But I wept. All was lost to me. Not merely Rome and my family, but even my Isis.&lt;br /&gt;This goddess was the embodiment of the faith of another nation, another people.&lt;br /&gt;Very slowly a calm settled over me.&lt;br /&gt;Is it so, I thought. The Cult of my Mother is in all places, North and South and&lt;br /&gt;East and West. It is the spirit of this Cult which gives it power. I need not&lt;br /&gt;literally kiss the feet of this effigy. That is not the point.&lt;br /&gt;I raised my head slowly, then sat back on my heels. A real revelation came upon&lt;br /&gt;me. I cannot fully record it. I knew it, fully, in an instant.&lt;br /&gt;I knew that all things were symbols of other things! I knew that all rituals&lt;br /&gt;were enactments of other happenings! I knew that out of our practical human&lt;br /&gt;minds we devised these things with an immensity of soul that would not allow the&lt;br /&gt;world to be devoid of meaning.&lt;br /&gt;And this statue represented love. Love above cruelty. Love above injustice. Love&lt;br /&gt;above loneliness and condemnation.&lt;br /&gt;That was what mattered, that single thing. I stared up at the face of the&lt;br /&gt;goddess and I knew her! I stared at the little Pharaoh, the proffered breast.&lt;br /&gt;"I am yours!” I said coldly.&lt;br /&gt;Her stark primitive Egyptian features were no obstade to my heart; I looked at&lt;br /&gt;the right hand which held her breast.&lt;br /&gt;Love. This requires strength from us; this requires endurance; this requires an&lt;br /&gt;acceptance of all that is unknown.&lt;br /&gt;“Take the dreams away from me, Heavenly Mother,” I said. “Or reveal their&lt;br /&gt;purpose. And the path I must follow. Please.”&lt;br /&gt;Then in Latin I said an old litany:&lt;br /&gt;You are she who has separated the Heavens and the Earth.&lt;br /&gt;You are she who rises in the Dog Star.&lt;br /&gt;You are she who makes strong the right.&lt;br /&gt;You. are she who makes the children to love their parents.&lt;br /&gt;You are she who decreed mercy for all who ask for it.&lt;br /&gt;I believed these words, but in a wholly profane way. I believed them because I&lt;br /&gt;saw her worship as having collected together from the minds of men and women the&lt;br /&gt;best ideas of which men and women were capable. That was the function for which&lt;br /&gt;a goddess existed; that was the spirit from which she drew her vitality.&lt;br /&gt;The lost phallus of Osiris exists in the Nile. And the Nile inseminates the&lt;br /&gt;fields. Oh, it was so lovely.&lt;br /&gt;The trick was not to reject it, as Lucretius might have suggested, but to&lt;br /&gt;realize what her image meant. To extract from that image the best in my own&lt;br /&gt;soul.&lt;br /&gt;And when I looked down at the beautiful white flowers, I thought, “It is your&lt;br /&gt;wisdom, Mother, that these bloom.” And I meant by that only that the world&lt;br /&gt;itself was filled with so much to be cherished, preserved, honored, that&lt;br /&gt;pleasure itself was resplendent – and she, Isis, embodied these concepts that&lt;br /&gt;were too deep to be called ideas.&lt;br /&gt;I loved her – this expression of goodness which was Isis.&lt;br /&gt;The longer I looked at her stone face, the more it seemed she saw me. An old&lt;br /&gt;trick. The more I knelt there, the more it seemed she spoke to me. I allowed&lt;br /&gt;this to happen, fully aware that it meant nothing. The dreams were remote. They&lt;br /&gt;seemed a puzzle which would find its idiot resolution.&lt;br /&gt;Then with true fervor, I crawled towards her and kissed her feet.&lt;br /&gt;My worship was over.&lt;br /&gt;I went out refreshed, jubilant.&lt;br /&gt;I wasn’t going to have those dreams anymore. There was still daylight. I was&lt;br /&gt;happy.&lt;br /&gt;I found many friends in the courtyard of the Temple, and sitting down with them&lt;br /&gt;under the olive trees, I drew out of them all the information I needed for&lt;br /&gt;practical life, how to get caterers, hairdressers, all that. Where to buy this&lt;br /&gt;thing and the other.&lt;br /&gt;In other words, I was armed by my rich friends with full equipment to run a fine&lt;br /&gt;house without actually cluttering it up with slaves I didn’t want. I could stick&lt;br /&gt;with Flavius and the two girls. Excellent. Anything else could be hired or&lt;br /&gt;bought.&lt;br /&gt;Finally, very tired, with my head full of names to remember and directions to&lt;br /&gt;recall, and very amused with the jokes and stories of these women, delighted by&lt;br /&gt;their ease in speaking Greek – which I had always loved – I sat back and&lt;br /&gt;thought, I can go home now.&lt;br /&gt;I can begin.&lt;br /&gt;The Temple was still very busy. I looked at the doors. Where was the Priest'?&lt;br /&gt;Well, I would come back tomorrow. I didn’t want to revive those dreams now, that&lt;br /&gt;was certain. Many people were coming and going with flowers and bread and some&lt;br /&gt;with birds to be set free for the goddess, birds that would take wing out of the&lt;br /&gt;high window of her Sanctuary.&lt;br /&gt;How warm it was here. What a blaze of flowers covered the wall! I had never&lt;br /&gt;thought there could be a place as beautiful as Tuscany, but maybe this place was&lt;br /&gt;beautiful too.&lt;br /&gt;I went out of the courtyard, before the steps, and into the Forum.&lt;br /&gt;I approached a man under the arches who was teaching a group of young boys all&lt;br /&gt;of what Diogenes has espoused, that we give up the flesh and all its pleasures,&lt;br /&gt;that we live pure lives in denial of the senses.&lt;br /&gt;It was so much as Flavius had described it. But the man meant his words, and was&lt;br /&gt;well versed. He spoke of a liberating resignation. He caught my fancy. For this&lt;br /&gt;is what I thought had come to me in the Temple, a liberating resignation.&lt;br /&gt;The boys who listened were too young to know this. But I knew it. I liked him.&lt;br /&gt;He had gray hair and wore a simple long tunic. He was not ostentatiously in&lt;br /&gt;rags.&lt;br /&gt;I at once interrupted. With a humble smile I offered the counsel of Epicurus,&lt;br /&gt;that the senses wouldn't have been given us were they not good. Wasn't this so'?&lt;br /&gt;"Must we deny ourselves? Look, back at the courtyard of the Temple of Isis, look&lt;br /&gt;at the flowers covering the top of the wall! Is this not something to savor?&lt;br /&gt;Look at the roaring red of those flowers! Those flowers are in themselves enough&lt;br /&gt;to lift a person out of sorrow. WE is to say that eyes are wiser than hands or&lt;br /&gt;lips?"&lt;br /&gt;The young men turned to me. I fell into discussions with several of them. How&lt;br /&gt;fresh and pretty they were. There were long-haired men from Babylon and even&lt;br /&gt;highborn Hebrews here, all with very hairy arms and chests, and many colonial&lt;br /&gt;Romans who were dazzled by the points I made, that in the flesh and in the wine,&lt;br /&gt;we find the truth of life.&lt;br /&gt;“The flowers, the stars, the wine, the kisses of one’s lover, all is part of&lt;br /&gt;Nature, surely," I said. I was of course on fire, having just come from the&lt;br /&gt;Temple, having just unburdened all fears and having resolved all doubts. I was&lt;br /&gt;for the moment invincible. The world was new.&lt;br /&gt;The Teacher, whose name was Marcellus, came from under the arch to greet me.&lt;br /&gt;“Ah, Gracious Lady, you amaze me,” he said. “But from whom did you really learn&lt;br /&gt;what you believe? Was it from Lucretius? Or was it from experience? You realize&lt;br /&gt;that we must not ever encourage people to abandon themselves to the senses!”&lt;br /&gt;“Have I said anything about abandon?” I asked. "To yield is not to abandon. It&lt;br /&gt;is to honor. I speak of a prudent life; I speak of listening to the wisdom of&lt;br /&gt;our bodies. I speak of the ultimate intelligence of kindness, and enjoyment. And&lt;br /&gt;if you will know, Lucretius didn’t teach me as much as one might think. He was&lt;br /&gt;always too dry for me, you know. I learned to embrace the glory of life from&lt;br /&gt;poets like Ovid.”&lt;br /&gt;The crowd of boys cheered.&lt;br /&gt;“I learnt from Ovid,” came shout after shout.&lt;br /&gt;“Well, that’s fine, but remember your manners as well as your lessons,” I said&lt;br /&gt;firmly.&lt;br /&gt;More cheering. Then the young men began tossing out verses from Ovid’s&lt;br /&gt;Metamorphoses.&lt;br /&gt;“That’s splendid,” I declared. “How many here? Fifteen. Why don’t you come to my&lt;br /&gt;house for a supper Y’ I asked. “Five nights from now, all of you. I need the&lt;br /&gt;time to prepare. I have many books I want to show you. I promise you, I will&lt;br /&gt;show you what a delicious feast can do for the soul!”&lt;br /&gt;My invitation was accepted with amusement and laughter. I disclosed the location&lt;br /&gt;of my house.&lt;br /&gt;“I am a widow. My name is Pandora. I invite you with all propriety, and the&lt;br /&gt;feast awaits you. Don’t expect dancing boys and girls, for you will not find&lt;br /&gt;them under my roof. Expect delicious food. Expect poetry. Which of you can sing&lt;br /&gt;the verses of Homer'? Truly sing them? Which of you sings them now from memory&lt;br /&gt;for pleasure!"&lt;br /&gt;Laughter, conviviality. Victory. It seemed everybody could do this, and welcomed&lt;br /&gt;the opportunity. Someone made a soft mention of another Roman woman who would be&lt;br /&gt;most jealous when she discovered she had competition in Antioch.&lt;br /&gt;"Nonsense,” said another, "her table is overcrowded. Lady, may I kiss your&lt;br /&gt;hand?"&lt;br /&gt;“You must tell me who she is,” I said. "I’ll welcome her. I want to know her,&lt;br /&gt;and what I can learn from her.”&lt;br /&gt;The Teacher was smiling. I slipped him some money.&lt;br /&gt;It was getting dusk. I sighed. Look. The rising stars of the tinted evening that&lt;br /&gt;precedes blackness.&lt;br /&gt;I received the boys' chaste kisses and confirmed our feast.&lt;br /&gt;But something had changed. It was as quick as the opening of one’s eyes. Ah,&lt;br /&gt;painted eyes, no.&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps it was only the awful pall of twilight.&lt;br /&gt;I felt a shudder. It is I who summoned you. Who spoke those words? Beware, for&lt;br /&gt;you would be stolen from me now and I will not have it.&lt;br /&gt;I was dumbstruck. I held the teacher’s hand warmly. He talked about moderation&lt;br /&gt;in living. “Look at my plain tunic,” he said. "These boys have so much money,&lt;br /&gt;they can destroy themselves.”&lt;br /&gt;The boys protested.&lt;br /&gt;But this was dim to me. I tried to listen. My eyes roved. Whence came that&lt;br /&gt;voice! Who spoke those words! Who summoned me and who would attempt the theft?&lt;br /&gt;Then to my silent astonishment I saw a man, his head covered by his toga,&lt;br /&gt;watching me. I knew him immediately, by his forehead and his eyes. I recognized&lt;br /&gt;his walk now as he moved steadily away.&lt;br /&gt;This was my brother, the youngest, Lucius, the one I despised. It had to be him.&lt;br /&gt;And behold the sly manner in which he fled from notice into the shadows.&lt;br /&gt;I knew the whole person. Lucius. He waited at the end of the long portico.&lt;br /&gt;I couldn’t move, and it was getting dark. All the merchants who are open only in&lt;br /&gt;the day were gone. The taverns were putting out their lanterns or torches. One&lt;br /&gt;bookseller remained open, with great displays of books under the lamps above.&lt;br /&gt;Lucius – my much detested youngest brother – not coming to welcome me with tears&lt;br /&gt;but gliding in the shadows of the portico. Why'?&lt;br /&gt;I feared I knew.&lt;br /&gt;Meantime, the boys were begging me to go to the nearby wine garden with them, a&lt;br /&gt;lovely place. They were fighting over who would pay for my supper there.&lt;br /&gt;Think, Pandora. This sweet little invitation is some keen test of the degree of&lt;br /&gt;my daring and freedom. And I should not go to a common tavern with the boys! But&lt;br /&gt;within moments I would be alone.&lt;br /&gt;The Forum grew quiet. The fires blazed before the Temples. But there were great&lt;br /&gt;spaces of darkness. The man in the toga waited.&lt;br /&gt;"No, I must be off now,” I said. Desperately I thought, what I shall I do for a&lt;br /&gt;torchbearer? Dare I ask these youths to see me home'? I could see their slaves&lt;br /&gt;waiting about, some already lighting their torches or lanterns.&lt;br /&gt;Singing came from the Temple of Isis.&lt;br /&gt;It was I who summoned you. Beware... for me and my purpose!&lt;br /&gt;“This is madness," I muttered, waving goodnight to those who left in pairs or&lt;br /&gt;trios. I forced smiles and kind words.&lt;br /&gt;I glared at the distant figure of Lucius, who now slouched at the end of the&lt;br /&gt;portico in front of doors closed for the night. His very posture was furtive and&lt;br /&gt;cowardly.&lt;br /&gt;Quite suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I brushed it off immediately,&lt;br /&gt;wishing to lay down limits to such familiarity, and then I realized a man was&lt;br /&gt;whispering in my ear:&lt;br /&gt;“The Priest at the Temple begs for you to come back, Madam. He needs to talk&lt;br /&gt;with you. He did not mean for you to leave without talking.”&lt;br /&gt;I turned to see a Priest there beside me, in full Egyptian headdress and&lt;br /&gt;impeccable white linen and wearing a medallion of the goddess around his neck.&lt;br /&gt;Oh, thank Heaven.&lt;br /&gt;But before I could recover myself or answer, another man had stepped up boldly,&lt;br /&gt;heaving forward his ivory leg and foot. Two torchbearers accompanied him. We&lt;br /&gt;were embraced by a warm light.&lt;br /&gt;“Does my Mistress wish to talk to this Priest?" he asked.&lt;br /&gt;It was Flavius. He had followed my commands. He was wonderfully dressed as a&lt;br /&gt;Roman gentleman in the long tunic and a loose cloak. As a slave, he couldn’t&lt;br /&gt;wear a toga. His hair was neat and trimmed and looked as impressive as any free&lt;br /&gt;man’s. He was shining dean and appeared completely confident.&lt;br /&gt;Marcellus, the Philosopher-Teacher, lingered. "Lady Pandora, you are most&lt;br /&gt;gracious, and let me assure you that the tavern these boys frequent may give&lt;br /&gt;rise to another Aristotle or Plato but it is not a fit place for you."&lt;br /&gt;"I know that,” I said. “Don’t worry."&lt;br /&gt;The Teacher looked warily at the Priest and at the handsome Flavius. I slipped&lt;br /&gt;my arm about Flavius’s waist. “This is my steward, who will welcome you the&lt;br /&gt;night you come to me. Thank you for letting me disrupt your teaching. You're a&lt;br /&gt;kind man.”&lt;br /&gt;The Teacher's face stiffened. Then he leaned doser. “There’s a man under the&lt;br /&gt;portico; don’t look at him now, but you need more slaves to protect you. This&lt;br /&gt;city is divided, dangerous.”&lt;br /&gt;“Yes, so you see him too,” I said. "And his glorious toga, the mark of his&lt;br /&gt;genteel birth!”&lt;br /&gt;“It’s getting dark,” Flavius said. “I’ll hire more torchbearers now and a&lt;br /&gt;litter. Right over there.”&lt;br /&gt;He thanked the Teacher, who reluctantly slipped away.&lt;br /&gt;The Priest. He was still waiting. Flavius gestured for two more torchbearers and&lt;br /&gt;they came trotting to join us. We now had a plenitude of light.&lt;br /&gt;I turned to the Priest. “I will come to the Temple directly, but I must first&lt;br /&gt;talk with that man over there! The man in the shadows?” I pointed quite visibly.&lt;br /&gt;I stood in a flood of light. I might as well have been on a stage.&lt;br /&gt;I saw the distant figure cringe and try to fade into the wall.&lt;br /&gt;“Why?” Flavius asked with about as much humility as a Roman Senator. “Something&lt;br /&gt;is very wrong about that man. He’s hovering. The Teacher was right.”&lt;br /&gt;"I know,” I answered. I heard the dim, echoing laughter of a woman! Yea gods, I&lt;br /&gt;had to stay sane long enough to get home! I looked at Flavius. He had not heard&lt;br /&gt;the laughter.&lt;br /&gt;There was one sure way to do this. "You torchbearers, all of you, come with me,”&lt;br /&gt;I said to the four of them. “Flavius, you stand here with the Priest and watch&lt;br /&gt;as I greet this man. I know him. Come only if I call.”&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, I don’t like it,” said Flavius.&lt;br /&gt;“Neither do I,” said the Priest. “They want you in the Temple, Madam, and we&lt;br /&gt;have many guards to escort you home.”&lt;br /&gt;“I won’t disappoint you,” I said, but I walked straight towards the toga-clad&lt;br /&gt;figure, crossing yard after yard of paved squares, the torches flaring around&lt;br /&gt;me.&lt;br /&gt;The toga-clad man gave a violent start, with his whole body, and then he took a&lt;br /&gt;few steps away from the wall.&lt;br /&gt;I stopped, still out in the square.&lt;br /&gt;He had to come closer. I wasn’t going to move. The four torches gasped and blew&lt;br /&gt;in the breeze. Anybody anywhere near could see us. We were the brightest thing&lt;br /&gt;in the Forum.&lt;br /&gt;The man approached. He walked slow, then fast. The light struck his face. He was&lt;br /&gt;consumed with rage.&lt;br /&gt;“Lucius,” I whispered. “I see you, but I can’t believe what I see."&lt;br /&gt;“Nor can I,” he said. “What the hell are you doing here?” he said to me.&lt;br /&gt;“What?” I was too baffled to answer.&lt;br /&gt;"Our family is in disgrace in Rome and you’re making a spectacle of yourself in&lt;br /&gt;the middle of Antioch! Look at you! Painted and perfumed and your hair full of&lt;br /&gt;ointment! You are a whore.”&lt;br /&gt;“Lucius!” I cried. “What in the name of the gods are you thinking'? Our Father&lt;br /&gt;is dead! Your own brothers may be dead. How did you escape? Why aren’t you glad&lt;br /&gt;to see me? Why don't you take me to your house?"&lt;br /&gt;“Glad to see you!” he hissed. “We are in hiding here, you bitch!”&lt;br /&gt;“How many of you? Who'? What about Antony? What happened to Flora?”&lt;br /&gt;He sneered with exasperation.&lt;br /&gt;"They are murdered, Lydia, and if you do not get yourself to some safe corner&lt;br /&gt;where no roaming citizen of Rome can find you, you are dead too. Oh, that you&lt;br /&gt;would turn up here, spouting philosophy! Everybody in the taverns was talking&lt;br /&gt;about you! And that slave with the leg made of ivory! I saw you at noon, you&lt;br /&gt;wretched and infernal nuisance. Damn you, Lydia!”&lt;br /&gt;This was pure unadulterated hate.&lt;br /&gt;Again, came that distinct echoing laughter. Of course he did not hear it. Only I&lt;br /&gt;could hear it.&lt;br /&gt;“Your wife, where is she. I want to see her! You will take me in!”&lt;br /&gt;“I will not.”&lt;br /&gt;“Lucius, I am your sister. I want to see your wife. You’re right. I’ve been&lt;br /&gt;foolish. I didn’t think things through very well. There are so many miles of sea&lt;br /&gt;between here and Rome. It never occurred to me –"&lt;br /&gt;“That's just it, Lydia, you never really think of anything sensible or&lt;br /&gt;practical. You never did. You’re an uncompromising dreamer, and stupid on top of&lt;br /&gt;it.”&lt;br /&gt;“Lucius, what can I do?"&lt;br /&gt;He turned from right to left, sizing up the torchbearers.&lt;br /&gt;He narrowed his eyes. I could feel his hatred. Oh, Father, do not see this from&lt;br /&gt;Heaven or the Underworld. My brother wants me dead!&lt;br /&gt;“Yes,” I said, “four torchbearers and we are in the middle of the Forum. And&lt;br /&gt;don’t forget about the man with the ivory leg over there and the Priest," I said&lt;br /&gt;softly. ”And do regard the soldiers outside the Emperor’s Temple. Take note. How&lt;br /&gt;goes it with your wife? I must see her. I'll come in secret. She’ll be happy&lt;br /&gt;that I am alive, surely, for I love her like a sister. I will never connect&lt;br /&gt;myself with you in public. I’ve made a grievous error.”&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, knock it off,” he said. “Sisters! She’s dead!” He looked from right to left&lt;br /&gt;again. “They were all massacred. Don’t you understand? Get away from me.” He&lt;br /&gt;took a few steps back but I moved forward, drawing the light around him again.&lt;br /&gt;“But who is with you, then? Who escaped with you? Who else is alive?”&lt;br /&gt;“Priscilla," he said, “and we were damned lucky to get away when we did.”&lt;br /&gt;“What? Your mistress? You came here with your mistress? The children, they are&lt;br /&gt;all dead?"&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, of course, they must be. How could they have escaped'? Look, Lydia, I give&lt;br /&gt;you one night to get out of this city and away from me. I am lodged here&lt;br /&gt;comfortably and will not tolerate you. Get out of Antioch. Go by sea or land, I&lt;br /&gt;don’t care, but go!"&lt;br /&gt;"You left your wife and children to die'? And came here with Priscilla?”&lt;br /&gt;”How the hell did you get away, you stinking bitch in heat, answer me that! Of&lt;br /&gt;course you had no children, the great famous barren womb of our family!” He&lt;br /&gt;looked at the torchbearers. "Get away from here!" he shouted.&lt;br /&gt;"Stay right where you are.”&lt;br /&gt;I put my hand on my dagger. I moved the mantle so that he could see the flash of&lt;br /&gt;the metal.&lt;br /&gt;He looked genuinely surprised and then gave a ghastly false smile. Oh,&lt;br /&gt;revolting!&lt;br /&gt;“Lydia, I wouldn’t hurt you for the world!” he said as if insulted. "I am only&lt;br /&gt;worried for us all. Word came from the house. Everyone had been killed. What was&lt;br /&gt;I to do, go back and die for nothing?”&lt;br /&gt;"You’re lying. And don’t you call me a bitch in heat again unless you want to&lt;br /&gt;become a gelding. I know you lie. Somebody tipped you off, and you got out! Or&lt;br /&gt;it was you who betrayed us all."&lt;br /&gt;Ah, how sad for him that he was not more clever, more quick. He did not take&lt;br /&gt;umbrage at these loathsome charges as he should have. He just tilted his head&lt;br /&gt;and said:&lt;br /&gt;“No, that’s not true. Look, come with me now. Send these men away, get rid of&lt;br /&gt;that slave, and I will help you. Priscilla adores you.”&lt;br /&gt;"She’s a liar and slut! And how calm you have become in the face of my&lt;br /&gt;suspicions. Nothing as steamed as when you saw me! I just accused you of&lt;br /&gt;betraying our family to the Delatores. I accused you of abandoning your wife and&lt;br /&gt;children to the Praetorian Guard. Can you hear these words?”&lt;br /&gt;"It’s utter stupidity, I would never do such a thing.”&lt;br /&gt;“You reek of guilt. Look at you. I should kill you now!"&lt;br /&gt;He backed up. "Get out of Antioch!” he said. “I don’t care how you judge me or&lt;br /&gt;what I had to do to save myself and Priscilla. Get out of Antioch!”&lt;br /&gt;There were no words for my judgment. It was harsher than my soul could hold.&lt;br /&gt;He backed away, and then walked fast into the darkness, disappearing before he&lt;br /&gt;reached the portico. I listened to his steps as they echoed down the street.&lt;br /&gt;“Dear Heaven!” I whispered. I was about to cry. My hand was still on the dagger,&lt;br /&gt;however.&lt;br /&gt;I turned around. The Priest and Flavius stood much closer than ordered. I was&lt;br /&gt;frankly utterly baffled, stopped.&lt;br /&gt;I didn't know what to do.&lt;br /&gt;“Come to the Temple at once," said the Priest.&lt;br /&gt;“All right,” I said. "Flavius, you come with me, stand watch with the four&lt;br /&gt;torchmen, I want you right by the Temple guards, and keep an eye out for that&lt;br /&gt;man.”&lt;br /&gt;“Who is he, Madam,” Flavius whispered as I strode towards the Temple, leading&lt;br /&gt;them both.&lt;br /&gt;How regal he looked. He had the presence of a free man. And his tunic was&lt;br /&gt;beautiful thin wool, striped in gold, belted in gold, well fitted across his&lt;br /&gt;chest. Even his ivory leg had been polished. I was more than pleased. But was he&lt;br /&gt;armed'?&lt;br /&gt;Beneath his quiet demeanor, he was deeply protective of me.&lt;br /&gt;In my misery, I couldn’t form words to answer him.&lt;br /&gt;Several litters were now crisscrossing the square, carried on the shoulders of&lt;br /&gt;hurrying slaves, and other slaves carried the torches beside them. A kind of&lt;br /&gt;soft glow rose from the commotion. People were on their way to dinners or&lt;br /&gt;private ceremonies. Something was happening in the Temple.&lt;br /&gt;I turned to the Priest. "You will guard my slave and my torchbearers?”&lt;br /&gt;“Yes, Madam,” he said.&lt;br /&gt;It was full night. The breeze was sweet. A few lanterns had been lighted under&lt;br /&gt;the long porticoes. We drew near to the braziers of the goddess.&lt;br /&gt;“Now I must leave you,” I said. "You have my permission to protect my property,&lt;br /&gt;as you so eloquently put it earlier, unto death. Don't move from these doors. I&lt;br /&gt;won’t leave here without you. I won’t stay long. I don’t want to. But have you a&lt;br /&gt;knife'?”&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, Madam, but it’s untried. It was among your possessions, and when you did&lt;br /&gt;not come home and it grew dark..."&lt;br /&gt;“Don’t recount the history of the world,” I said. "You did the right thing. You&lt;br /&gt;probably will always do the right thing.”&lt;br /&gt;I turned my back to the square and said, “Let me see it. I’ll know if it's&lt;br /&gt;decorative or sharp.”&lt;br /&gt;When he drew it from the forearm sling, I touched it with my finger and blood&lt;br /&gt;came from the cut. I returned it. This had belonged to my Father. So my Father&lt;br /&gt;had filled my trunk with his weapons as well as his wealth, so that I might&lt;br /&gt;live!&lt;br /&gt;Flavius and I exchanged one last slow glance.&lt;br /&gt;The Priest grew very anxious. “Madam, please come inside,” he said.&lt;br /&gt;I found myself ushered right through the tall doors into the Temple, and with&lt;br /&gt;the Priestesses and the Priest of earlier that afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;"You want something of me?" I asked. I was out of breath. I was faint. "I have&lt;br /&gt;much on my mind, things that must be done. Can this wait?”&lt;br /&gt;“No, Lady, it cannot!” said the Priest.&lt;br /&gt;I felt a shudder in my limbs as if I were being watched by someone. The tall&lt;br /&gt;shadows of the Temples were too concealing.&lt;br /&gt;“All right,” I said. "It’s about those awful dreams, isn't it?”&lt;br /&gt;“Yes,” said the Priest. “And more than that.”&lt;br /&gt;6&lt;br /&gt;We were taken into another chamber, and this one had only one dim light.&lt;br /&gt;I couldn’t see well in the flickering of the flame and I realized I could not&lt;br /&gt;make out the faces of the other Priest and Priestess. An Oriental screen, a&lt;br /&gt;screen of worked ebony, partitioned off the end of this room, and I felt certain&lt;br /&gt;someone was behind it.&lt;br /&gt;But I felt nothing but gentleness emanating from all of these gathered here. I&lt;br /&gt;looked around. I was so miserable over my brother, and so impatient that I&lt;br /&gt;couldn’t find polite words.&lt;br /&gt;"Please, you must forgive me,” I said. “A dire matter requires me to hurry.” I&lt;br /&gt;was becoming afraid for Flavius’s safety. “Do send guards to flank my slave&lt;br /&gt;outside, now.”&lt;br /&gt;"Done, Lady," said the Priest, the one I knew. “I beg you to stay and recount&lt;br /&gt;your story again."&lt;br /&gt;“Who is there!" I pointed. “Behind that screen. Why is this person concealed?”&lt;br /&gt;This was very rude and irreverent, but I was in a full state of alarm.&lt;br /&gt;“That is one of our most devoted supporters," said the Priest who had escorted&lt;br /&gt;me to the shrine of Isis earlier. "This one often comes by night to pray at the&lt;br /&gt;shrine and has given much money to the Temple. He only wants to hear what we&lt;br /&gt;have to say.”&lt;br /&gt;“Well, I'm not so sure of that. Tell him to come out!” I said. "Besides, what is&lt;br /&gt;it we’re supposed to say?”&lt;br /&gt;I was infuriated suddenly that they might have betrayed my corifidences. I&lt;br /&gt;hadn’t told them my true Roman name, only of my tragedy, but the Temple was&lt;br /&gt;sacred.&lt;br /&gt;They became all flustered in their gentleness.&lt;br /&gt;The figure, draped in the toga, much taller than my brother, in fact, remarkably&lt;br /&gt;tall, stepped out from behind the screen. The toga was dark, but nevertheless&lt;br /&gt;the classical garment. His face was hidden by the toga. I could only see his&lt;br /&gt;lips.&lt;br /&gt;He whispered:&lt;br /&gt;"Don’t be afraid. You told the Priest and Priestesses this afternoon of blood&lt;br /&gt;dreams.”&lt;br /&gt;“This was in confidence!” I said indignantly. I was completely suspicious, for I&lt;br /&gt;had told a good deal more than blood dreams to these people.&lt;br /&gt;I tried better to see the figure. There was something distinctly familiar about&lt;br /&gt;the figure – the voice, even in a whisper... something else.&lt;br /&gt;"Lady Pandora,” said the Priestess who had so consoled me earlier. "You talked&lt;br /&gt;to me of an old legendary worship, worship which we oppose and condemn. A&lt;br /&gt;worship of our Beloved Mother which once involved human sacrifice. I told you&lt;br /&gt;that we abhor such things. And we do."&lt;br /&gt;“However,” said the Priest, “there is someone afoot in the city of Antioch who&lt;br /&gt;does drink blood from humans, draining them until they are dead. Then he flings&lt;br /&gt;the bodies before dawn on our steps. The very steps of our Temple.” He sighed.&lt;br /&gt;"Lady Pandora, I am entrusting you with a powerful confidence."&lt;br /&gt;All thought of my evil brother left me. The hound of the dreams bore down upon&lt;br /&gt;me with its evil breath. I tried to gather my wits. I thought again of the voice&lt;br /&gt;I’d heard in my head: It is E who summoned you. The feminine laughter.&lt;br /&gt;“No, it was a woman's laughter," I murmured.&lt;br /&gt;“Lady Pandora?”&lt;br /&gt;“You tell me there is someone afoot in Antioch who drinks blood."&lt;br /&gt;“By night. He cannot walk in the day,” said the Priest.&lt;br /&gt;I saw the dream, the rising sun, knowing I the blood drinker would die in the&lt;br /&gt;rays of the sun.&lt;br /&gt;“You’re telling me that these blood drinkers I saw in my dream exist?” I asked.&lt;br /&gt;“That one of them is here."&lt;br /&gt;“Someone wants us to believe this," said the Priest, “that the old legends have&lt;br /&gt;truth, but we don’t know who it is. And we are leery of the Roman authorities.&lt;br /&gt;You know what happened in Rome. You came speaking of dreams in which the sun&lt;br /&gt;killed you, in which you were a blood drinker. Lady, I’m not betraying your&lt;br /&gt;confidences here. This one –”&lt;br /&gt;He gestured to the tall man. “This is the one who reads the ancient writing.&lt;br /&gt;He’s read the legends. Your dreams echo the legends.”&lt;br /&gt;“I am sick,” I said. “I need a chair. I have enemies to worry about."&lt;br /&gt;“I’ll protect you from your enemies,” said the mysterious tall man in the toga.&lt;br /&gt;“How can you? You don't even know who they are. "&lt;br /&gt;There came a silent voice from the tall man in the toga:&lt;br /&gt;Your brother Lucius betrayed the entire family. He did it out of jealousy of&lt;br /&gt;your brother Antony. He sold out everybody to the Delatores for a guaranteed&lt;br /&gt;one-third of the family’s wealth and left before the killing began. He had the&lt;br /&gt;cooperation of Sejanus of the Praetorian Guard. He wants to kill you.&lt;br /&gt;I was shocked but also not about to let this person overwhelm me.&lt;br /&gt;You speak just like the woman, I said silently. You speak right to my thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;You speak like the woman who said to me in my head, “It is I who summoned you.”&lt;br /&gt;I could feel his shock at this. But I too slumped as if dealt a mortal blow. So&lt;br /&gt;this creature knew all about my brothers, and Lucius had betrayed us. And this&lt;br /&gt;creature knew.&lt;br /&gt;What are you? I fired off to the mind speaker, the tall one. Are you a magicians&lt;br /&gt;No answer.&lt;br /&gt;The Priest and Priestess, unable to hear this silent exchange, pursued their&lt;br /&gt;course.&lt;br /&gt;“This blood drinker, Lady Pandora, he leaves human victims on the steps of the&lt;br /&gt;Temple before dawn. He writes an old name in Egyptian on his victims with their&lt;br /&gt;blood. Should the government discover this, our Temple might be held&lt;br /&gt;accountable. This is not our worship.&lt;br /&gt;"Will you recount again for us – for our friend here – your dreams? We must&lt;br /&gt;protect the worship of Isis. We did not believe in these old legends... until&lt;br /&gt;this creature appeared and began his killing, then comes out of the sea a&lt;br /&gt;beautiful Roman woman who speaks of similar beings who are in her dreams.”&lt;br /&gt;“What name does he write on his victims?" I asked. "This blood drinker. Is it&lt;br /&gt;Isis?"&lt;br /&gt;“It’s meaningless, it’s forbidden, it’s old Egyptian. It is one of the names by&lt;br /&gt;which Isis was once called, but never by us.”&lt;br /&gt;"What is it?”&lt;br /&gt;None of them, including the silent one, answered me.&lt;br /&gt;In the silence, I thought of Lucius and I almost wept. Then hatred came over me,&lt;br /&gt;deep hatred, as it had in the Forum when I spoke with him, saw his cowardly&lt;br /&gt;rage. Betrayed the entire family. To be weak is a dangerous thing. Antony and my&lt;br /&gt;Father had been such strong men.&lt;br /&gt;“Lady Pandora,” said the Priest. “Tell us what you might know of this creature&lt;br /&gt;in Antioch. Have you dreamed of him?”&lt;br /&gt;I thought of the dreams. I tried to respond in depth to what these people in&lt;br /&gt;this Temple were telling me.&lt;br /&gt;The tall distant Roman spoke:&lt;br /&gt;“Lady Pandora knows nothing about this blood drinker. She is telling you the&lt;br /&gt;truth. She knows only the dreams and there have been no names spoken in her&lt;br /&gt;dreams. In her dreams she sees an earlier time of Egypt."&lt;br /&gt;“Well, thank you, Gracious Lord!” I said furiously. “And just how have you&lt;br /&gt;arrived at that conclusion?"&lt;br /&gt;"By reading your thoughts!” the Roman said, quite unruffled. “The same as I have&lt;br /&gt;regarding those who would put you in danger here. I’ll protect you from your&lt;br /&gt;brother.”&lt;br /&gt;"Indeed. You had better leave that to me. It is I who will settle that score&lt;br /&gt;with him. Now, let us leave the question of my personal misfortune. And you&lt;br /&gt;explain to me, most clever one, why I am having these dreams! Fork up some&lt;br /&gt;useful magic from your mind reading. You know, a man with your gifts should post&lt;br /&gt;yourself at the courthouse, and determine cases for the judges if you can read&lt;br /&gt;minds. Why don't you go to Rome and become the advisor to the Emperor Tiberius?”&lt;br /&gt;I could feel, positively feel, the little tumult in the heart of the distant&lt;br /&gt;concealed Roman. Again, there came that sense of something familiar about this&lt;br /&gt;creature. Of course I was no stranger to necromancers, astrologists or oracles.&lt;br /&gt;But this man had mentioned specific names – Antony, Lucius. He was an astounder.&lt;br /&gt;“Tell me, oh, mysterious one,” I said. “How dose do my dreams come to what&lt;br /&gt;you’ve read in the old writing? And this blood drinker, the one that’s roaming&lt;br /&gt;Antioch, is he a mortal man?”&lt;br /&gt;Silence.&lt;br /&gt;I strained to see the Roman more dearly but couldn’t. He had in fact receded&lt;br /&gt;somewhat into the darkness. My nerves were on the breaking point. I wanted to&lt;br /&gt;kill Lucius; in fact, I had no choice.&lt;br /&gt;The Roman said softly, “She knows nothing of this blood drinker in Antioch. Tell&lt;br /&gt;her what you know of him – for it may be he, this blood drinker, who is sending&lt;br /&gt;her the dreams.”&lt;br /&gt;I was confused. The woman’s voice had been so clear in my head earlier, Et is I&lt;br /&gt;who summoned you.&lt;br /&gt;This was causing confusion in the Roman; I could feel it like a little&lt;br /&gt;turbulence in the air.&lt;br /&gt;"We’ve seen him," said the Priest. "Indeed, we watch, in order to collect these&lt;br /&gt;poor drained corpses before anyone finds them and blames the deed on us. He is&lt;br /&gt;burned, burned all over his body, blackened. He cannot be a man. He is an old&lt;br /&gt;god, burnt black as if in an inferno.”&lt;br /&gt;“Amon Ra,” I said. “But why didn't he die? In the dreams, I die.”&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, it is a horror to behold,” said the Priestess suddenly, as if she could&lt;br /&gt;contain herself no longer. “This thing cannot be human. Its bones show through&lt;br /&gt;its blackened skin. But it is weak and its victims are weak. It barely staggers,&lt;br /&gt;yet it can drain the blood from the poor maimed souls upon whom it feeds. It&lt;br /&gt;crawls away in the morning as if it hasn’t the strength to walk.”&lt;br /&gt;The Priest seemed impatient.&lt;br /&gt;"But he’s alive,” said the Priest. "Alive, god or demon or man, he lives. And&lt;br /&gt;each time he drinks blood from one of these weaklings, he grows a little&lt;br /&gt;stronger. And he is straight from the old legends, and you have dreamed of them.&lt;br /&gt;He wears his hair long in the old Egyptian style. He is in agony from his burns.&lt;br /&gt;He spits curses at the Temple.”&lt;br /&gt;"What kind of curses'?"&lt;br /&gt;The Priestess interjected at once. “He seems to think that Queen Isis has&lt;br /&gt;betrayed him. He speaks in old Egyptian. We barely understand him. Our Roman&lt;br /&gt;friend here, our benefactor, has translated the words for us.”&lt;br /&gt;“Stop!” I demanded. “My head is reeling. Don’t say anymore. The man over there&lt;br /&gt;has told the truth. I know nothing of this bloody burnt creature. I don’t know&lt;br /&gt;why I have the dreams. l think a woman is sending the dreams to me. It may be&lt;br /&gt;the Queen I described to you, the Queen on the throne, in fetters, who weeps, I&lt;br /&gt;don't know why!”&lt;br /&gt;“You have never seen this man?" asked the Priest.&lt;br /&gt;The Roman answered for me. "She,has not.”&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, your marvelous talents as spokesman again!” I said to the Roman. "I am so&lt;br /&gt;delighted! Why are you hiding behind your toga? Why do you stand over there, so&lt;br /&gt;far away that I can’t see you? Have you seen this blood drinker?"&lt;br /&gt;“Be patient with me," he said. It was spoken with such charm that I couldn’t&lt;br /&gt;bring myself to say more to him. I turned on the Priest and the Priestess.&lt;br /&gt;“Why don’t you lie in wait for this black burnt thing,” I said, “this weakling?&lt;br /&gt;I am hearing voices in my head. But it’s the words of a woman that come to me,&lt;br /&gt;warning me of danger. It’s a woman laughing. I want to leave now. I want to go&lt;br /&gt;home. I have something that must be done, and must be done cleverly. I need to&lt;br /&gt;go.”&lt;br /&gt;“I will protect you from your enemy,” said the Roman.&lt;br /&gt;“That’s charming,” I answered. “If you can protect me, if you know who my enemy&lt;br /&gt;is, then why can’t you lie in wait for this blood drinker? Catch him in a&lt;br /&gt;gladiator’s net, Sink five tridents into him. Five of – you can hold him. All&lt;br /&gt;you have to do is hold him till the sun rises, the rays of Amon Ra will kill&lt;br /&gt;him. It may take two days, even three, but they'll kill him. He’ll burn like I&lt;br /&gt;did in the dream. And you, mind reader, why don’t you help?”&lt;br /&gt;I broke off, shocked and disoriented. Why was I so certain of this. Why was I&lt;br /&gt;using the name Amon Ra so casually, as if I believed in the god'? I scarcely&lt;br /&gt;knew his fables.&lt;br /&gt;“The creature knows when we are lying in wait,” said the Priest and Priestess.&lt;br /&gt;"He knows when the – tall friend is here, and does not come. We are vigilant, we&lt;br /&gt;are patient, we think we will see no more of him, and then he comes. And now you&lt;br /&gt;have come with the dreams.”&lt;br /&gt;A vivid garish flash of the dream returned. I was a man. I argued and cursed. I&lt;br /&gt;refused to do something which I had been ordered to do. A woman was weeping. I&lt;br /&gt;fought off those who tried to stop&lt;br /&gt;me. But I had not foreseen that I would, as I ran away, come to a desert place&lt;br /&gt;where I could find no&lt;br /&gt;shelter.&lt;br /&gt;If the others spoke, I took no note of it. I heard the woman of the dream&lt;br /&gt;crying, the fettered Queen,&lt;br /&gt;and the woman was a blood drinker too. “You must drink from the Fount,” said the&lt;br /&gt;man in my dream.&lt;br /&gt;And he wasn't a man. I wasn’t a man. We were gods. We were blood drinkers.&lt;br /&gt;That’s why the sun destroyed me. It was the force of a more powerful god. Layers&lt;br /&gt;upon layers of the dream lay below this polished bit of remembrance.&lt;br /&gt;I came to my senses, or back to an awareness of the others, when someone placed&lt;br /&gt;a cup of wine in&lt;br /&gt;my hands. I drank it. It was excellent wine, from Italy, and I felt refreshed,&lt;br /&gt;though at once tired. It&lt;br /&gt;would make the walk home much too tiring if I drank any more. I needed my&lt;br /&gt;strength. "Take this away," I said. I looked at the Priestess. "In the dream, I&lt;br /&gt;told you, I was one of them. They wanted me to drink from the Queen. They called&lt;br /&gt;her 'the Fount.’ They said she did not know how to rule. I told you.” The&lt;br /&gt;Priestess burst into tears and turned her back, hunching up her narrow&lt;br /&gt;shoulders.&lt;br /&gt;“I was one of the blood drinkers,” I said. “I was thirsty for blood. Listen, I&lt;br /&gt;am no lover of blood sacrifice. What do you know here? Does Queen Isis exist&lt;br /&gt;somewhere, within this Temple, bound in fetters –”&lt;br /&gt;“No!" cried the Priest. The Priestess turned around, echoing the same horrified&lt;br /&gt;denial.&lt;br /&gt;"All right, then, but you said there were legends that she did exist somewhere&lt;br /&gt;in material form. Now, what do you think is happening? She has summoned me here&lt;br /&gt;to assist this one, this burnt-up weakling? Why me'? How can I do it? I’m a&lt;br /&gt;mortal woman. Remembering dreams of a past life does not enhance my power.&lt;br /&gt;Listen! It was a woman's voice, I told you, which spoke in my head to me, not an&lt;br /&gt;hour ago out there in the Forum, and she said ‘It is I who summoned you,’ I&lt;br /&gt;heard this, and she swore she would not have me stolen from her. Then up comes&lt;br /&gt;this mortal man who’s more of a threat to me than anything in my head. The voice&lt;br /&gt;in my head had warned me of him! I don’t want any of your mysterious Egyptian&lt;br /&gt;religion. I refuse to go mad. It is you, all of you – especially the talented&lt;br /&gt;mind reader – who must find this thing before he makes any more trouble. Allow&lt;br /&gt;me to go on.”&lt;br /&gt;I stood up and began to walk out of the chamber.&lt;br /&gt;The Roman spoke behind me, most gently, “Are you really going out into the night&lt;br /&gt;alone, knowing full well what awaits you – that you have an enemy who wants to&lt;br /&gt;kill you, and that you have in your dreams knowledge that may draw this blood&lt;br /&gt;drinker to you?"&lt;br /&gt;This was such a change of pace for the lofty mind reader, such a slip into&lt;br /&gt;semisarcastic vernacular, that&lt;br /&gt;I almost laughed.&lt;br /&gt;“I’m going home now!" I said firmly.&lt;br /&gt;They all pleaded, in diferent modes and tones. "Stay in the Temple.”&lt;br /&gt;“Absolutely not,” I said. "If the dreams return I’ll write them down for you."&lt;br /&gt;“How can you be so foolish!” said the Roman with genteel impatience. You would&lt;br /&gt;have thought he&lt;br /&gt;was my brother!&lt;br /&gt;“That is an unforgivable impertinence,” I said. “Are not magicians and mind&lt;br /&gt;readers bound by manners?" I looked to the Priest and Priestess. “Who is this&lt;br /&gt;man?”&lt;br /&gt;I went out and they followed me. I hurried to the door.&lt;br /&gt;In the light I saw the Priestess’s face. “We know only that he’s our friend.&lt;br /&gt;Please listen to his advice. He has never done anything but good for the Temple,&lt;br /&gt;He comes to read the Egyptian books we have&lt;br /&gt;here. He buys them up from the shops as soon as the sea brings them to us. He is&lt;br /&gt;wise. He can read minds, as you see."&lt;br /&gt;“You promised an escort of guards,” I said.&lt;br /&gt;And I will be with you. The voice came from the Roman, though I did not know&lt;br /&gt;where he was now at&lt;br /&gt;all. He was not in the great hall.&lt;br /&gt;“Come, live within the Temple of Isis, and nothing can harm you,” said the&lt;br /&gt;Priest.&lt;br /&gt;“I’m not quite the woman for living in the Temple Compound,” I said, trying to&lt;br /&gt;sound as humble and grateful as I could. "I’d drive you mad in a week. Please&lt;br /&gt;open the door."&lt;br /&gt;I slipped out. I felt I had escaped from a dark corridor of spiderwebs, back&lt;br /&gt;into the Roman night, among Roman columns and Roman temples.&lt;br /&gt;I discovered Flavius pressed against the column beside me, staring down into the&lt;br /&gt;stairs. Our four torchbearers were gathered next to us, very much alarmed.&lt;br /&gt;There were men who were obviously Temple guards, but they stood cleaving to the&lt;br /&gt;doors, as did Flavius.&lt;br /&gt;“Madam, go back in!” whispered Flavius.&lt;br /&gt;At the foot of the stairs stood a group of helmeted Roman soldiers in full&lt;br /&gt;military dress with polished muscled breastplates and short red cloaks and&lt;br /&gt;tunics. They carried their deadly swords as if they were in battle. Their bronze&lt;br /&gt;helmets shone in the light of the Temple braziers.&lt;br /&gt;Battle dress within the city. Everything but shields. And who was the leader?&lt;br /&gt;Lucius, my brother, stood beside the leader. Lucius wore his battle tunic of&lt;br /&gt;red, but no breastplate or sword. His toga was doubled and redoubled over his&lt;br /&gt;left arm. He was clean, with shining hair, exuding money. A jeweled dagger was&lt;br /&gt;on his forearm; another dagger was in his belt.&lt;br /&gt;Trembling, he pointed at me.&lt;br /&gt;“There she is," said Lucius. “Of the entire family, she escaped the order of&lt;br /&gt;Sejanus. It was a plot to kill Tiberius and somehow she bribed her way out of&lt;br /&gt;Rome!"&lt;br /&gt;I quickly sized up the soldiers. There were two young Asiatics but the others&lt;br /&gt;were old and Roman; six in number. Yea gods, they must have thought I was Circe!&lt;br /&gt;“Go back in,” said my beloved and loyal Flavius, "seek sanctuary.”&lt;br /&gt;“Be still,” I said. “There’s always time for that."&lt;br /&gt;The leader, he was the key, and I saw that he was an older man, older than my&lt;br /&gt;brother Antony, yet not as old as my Father. He had thick gray eyebrows and was&lt;br /&gt;impeccably dean shaven.&lt;br /&gt;He wore battle scars proudly, one on his cheek, another on his thigh. He was&lt;br /&gt;exhausted. His eyes were red and he shook his head as if to clear his vision.&lt;br /&gt;This man’s arms were very tanned, yet he was well muscled. This meant war – lots&lt;br /&gt;and lots of war.&lt;br /&gt;Lucius declared, “The entire family stands condemned. She should be executed on&lt;br /&gt;the spot!”&lt;br /&gt;I decided my strategy as if I were Caesar himself. I spoke up at once,&lt;br /&gt;proceeding two steps down:&lt;br /&gt;“You are the Legate, are you not? How tired you must be!" I took his hand in&lt;br /&gt;both of mine. “Were you under the command of Germanicus?”&lt;br /&gt;He nodded.&lt;br /&gt;First blow struck!&lt;br /&gt;“My brothers fought with Germanicus in the North," I said. “And Antony, the&lt;br /&gt;eldest, after the Triumphal March in Rome, lived long enough to tell us of the&lt;br /&gt;bones found in the Teutoburg Forest.”&lt;br /&gt;"Ah, Madam, to see that field of bones, an entire army ambushed and the bodies&lt;br /&gt;left to rot!”&lt;br /&gt;"Two of my brothers died in the battle. It was in a storm, in the North Sea.”&lt;br /&gt;“Madam, you never saw such a disaster, but do you think the Barbarian God, Thor,&lt;br /&gt;could frighten our Germanicus?”&lt;br /&gt;"Never. And you came here with the General?"&lt;br /&gt;“Went everywhere with him, from the banks of the Elbe in the North to the South&lt;br /&gt;end of the River Nile.”&lt;br /&gt;“How marvelous, and you are so tired, Tribune, look at you, you need sleep.&lt;br /&gt;Where is the famous Governor Gnaeus Calpurnius Piso? Why did it take him so long&lt;br /&gt;to quiet the city?”&lt;br /&gt;“Because he's not here, Madam, and he doesn't dare to come back. Some say he&lt;br /&gt;makes a mutiny in Greece, others that he flees for his life."&lt;br /&gt;“Stop listening to her!” shouted Lucius.&lt;br /&gt;"He was never much loved in Rome, either," I said. “It was Germanicus whom my&lt;br /&gt;brothers loved and my Father praised.”&lt;br /&gt;“Indeed, and if we had been given one more year – one more year, Madam – we&lt;br /&gt;could have extinguished the fire of that bloody upstart King Arminius forever!&lt;br /&gt;We didn't even need that long! You spoke of the North Sea. We fought on all&lt;br /&gt;terrain.”&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, yes, in the thick of the forest, and tell me this, were you there, Sir,&lt;br /&gt;when they found the lost standard of General Varus’s legions? Is the story&lt;br /&gt;true!”&lt;br /&gt;“Ah, Madam, when that golden eagle was raised, you never heard such cries as&lt;br /&gt;from the soldiers.”&lt;br /&gt;“This woman is a liar and a traitor,” shouted Lucius.&lt;br /&gt;I turned on him. “Don’t push me too far! You’re past all patience now. Do you&lt;br /&gt;even know the numbers of the Legions of General Varus who were ambushed in the&lt;br /&gt;Teutoburg Forest? I thought not! They were the Seventh, the Eighth and the&lt;br /&gt;Ninth.”&lt;br /&gt;“Right, correct,” said the Legate. “And we could have wiped out those tribes&lt;br /&gt;completely. The Empire would reach to the Elbe! But for some reason, and mine is&lt;br /&gt;not the place to question, our Emperor Tiberius called us back."&lt;br /&gt;“Hmmm, and then condemns your beloved leader for going to Egypt.”&lt;br /&gt;“Madam, it was no trip to seize power, Germanicus's trip to Egypt. It was&lt;br /&gt;because of a famine.”&lt;br /&gt;“Yes, and Germanicus had been declared Imperium Maius of all the Eastern&lt;br /&gt;provinces,” I said.&lt;br /&gt;“And there was so much trouble!" said the Legate. "You can not imagine the&lt;br /&gt;morale, the habits of the soldiers here, but our General never slept! He went&lt;br /&gt;directly when he heard of the famine."&lt;br /&gt;“And you with him?"&lt;br /&gt;“All of us, his cohorts. In Egypt he delighted in seeing the old monuments. So&lt;br /&gt;did I.”&lt;br /&gt;“Ah, how marvelous for him. You must tell me about Egypt! You know that I, as a&lt;br /&gt;Senator’s daughter, cannot go to Egypt any more than can a Senator. I would so&lt;br /&gt;love –"&lt;br /&gt;“Why is that, Madam?” asked the Legate.&lt;br /&gt;“She's lying to you!” roared Lucius. “Her whole family was murdered.”&lt;br /&gt;'Very simple reason, Tribune,” I said to the Legate. “It's no state secret. Rome&lt;br /&gt;is so dependent upon Egypt for corn that the Emperor wants to prevent the&lt;br /&gt;country from ever falling under the control of a powerful traitor. Surely you&lt;br /&gt;grew up as I did in dread of another Civil War.”&lt;br /&gt;“I put my faith in our Generals,” said the Legate.&lt;br /&gt;“You are right to do so. And you saw nothing from Germanicus but loyalty, is&lt;br /&gt;that not so?”&lt;br /&gt;"It is absolutely so. Ah, Egypt. We saw such Temples and statues!”&lt;br /&gt;“The singing statues,” I asked, “did you see them, the colossal man and woman&lt;br /&gt;who wail in the rising of the sun.”&lt;br /&gt;“Yes, I heard it, Madam,” he said, nodding furiously. "I heard the sound! It is&lt;br /&gt;magical. Egypt is full of magic!"&lt;br /&gt;“Hmmm." A tremor ran through me. I banished it. In a flash I saw two images&lt;br /&gt;mixed: that of the tall Roman in his toga, and that of a burnt and cunning&lt;br /&gt;creature! Think straight, Pandora!&lt;br /&gt;"And in the Temple of Ramses the Great,” said the Legate, “one of the Priests&lt;br /&gt;read the writing on the walls. All about victory'? All about battle? We laughed&lt;br /&gt;because nothing really changes, Madam.”&lt;br /&gt;“And Governor Piso, do you believe these rumors'? Can we not speak safely of&lt;br /&gt;them, of rumors as if rumors were not things?"&lt;br /&gt;“Everyone here despises him!” said the Legate. "He was a bad soldier, plain and&lt;br /&gt;simple! And Agrippina the Elder, Germanicus’s beloved wife, is on her way to&lt;br /&gt;Rome now with the General’s ashes. She will officially accuse the Governor&lt;br /&gt;before the Senate!”&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, how courageous of her, and that is how it should be done. If families are&lt;br /&gt;judged without trial, then we have fallen into tyranny, haven’t we'? Here, our&lt;br /&gt;friendly lunatic, don't you agree to that?”&lt;br /&gt;Lucius was speechless. He turned red.&lt;br /&gt;"And in the Teutoburg Forest,” I said tenderly, “that gloomy arena for our doom,&lt;br /&gt;did you see all the bones of our lost legions, scattered about?”&lt;br /&gt;“Buried them, Madam, with these hands!" The Legate held up his weathered&lt;br /&gt;callused palms. "For who could tell what bones were ours and what bones were&lt;br /&gt;theirs? And Madam, the platform of that cowardly, sneaking King was still&lt;br /&gt;standing, from which the loathsome long-haired slob had ordered the sacrifice to&lt;br /&gt;his pagan gods of our men.”&lt;br /&gt;Nods and noble mumbles came from the other soldiers.&lt;br /&gt;"I was but a small child," I said, “when word came of the ambush of General&lt;br /&gt;Varus. But I remember our Divine Emperor Augustus – how he let his hair grow&lt;br /&gt;long in mourning and how he would pound his head on the walls, crying, Varus,&lt;br /&gt;bring me back my legions.’ ”&lt;br /&gt;“You actually saw him this way?”&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, many a time, and was present one night when he discussed his often&lt;br /&gt;mentioned thoughts – that the Empire must not try to push further. Rather it&lt;br /&gt;should police the states which it now contains.”&lt;br /&gt;"Then Caesar Augustus did say this!” said the Legate in fascination.&lt;br /&gt;"He cared about you,” I said to the Legate. “How many years have you been in the&lt;br /&gt;field'? Do you have a wife?”&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, how I long to go home,” said the Legate. "And now that my General has&lt;br /&gt;fallen. My wife is gray-haired as I am. I see her when we go to Rome for&lt;br /&gt;parades.”&lt;br /&gt;“Yes, and compulsory service was only six years under the Republic, but now, you&lt;br /&gt;must fight for what? Twelve? Twenty? But who am I to criticize Augustus, whom I&lt;br /&gt;loved as I loved my Father and all my dead brothers'?”&lt;br /&gt;Lucius could see what was happening. He sputtered when he spoke:&lt;br /&gt;“Tribune, read my Safe Conduct! Read it!"&lt;br /&gt;The Legate looked truly annoyed.&lt;br /&gt;My brother marshaled what he could of his rhetoric, which wasn't much. “She&lt;br /&gt;lies. She is condemned. Her family is dead. I was compelled to bear witness to&lt;br /&gt;Sejanus because they sought to kill Tiberius himself!"&lt;br /&gt;“You turned on your own family?” asked the soldier.&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, don’t wear yourself out with this,” I said. “The man has harried me all&lt;br /&gt;day. He has discovered&lt;br /&gt;that I am a woman alone, an heiress, and thinks that this is some uncivilized&lt;br /&gt;outpost of the Empire where&lt;br /&gt;he can bring a charge against a Senator's daughter with no proof. Dear lunatic,&lt;br /&gt;do pay attention. Julius&lt;br /&gt;Caesar gave Antioch its municipal standing less than one hundred years ago.&lt;br /&gt;There are legions stationed&lt;br /&gt;here, are there not'?”&lt;br /&gt;I looked at the Legate.&lt;br /&gt;The Legate turned and glowered at my trembling brother.&lt;br /&gt;“What is this Safe Conduct?” I asked. “This bears the name Tiberius."&lt;br /&gt;The Legate snatched it from Lucius before Lucius could respond and handed the&lt;br /&gt;scroll to me. I had to&lt;br /&gt;take my hand off my dagger to unroll the paper.&lt;br /&gt;“Ah, Sejanus of the Praetorian Guard! I knew it. And the Emperor probably knows&lt;br /&gt;nothing of it.&lt;br /&gt;Tribune, do you know those palace guards make one and one half times what a&lt;br /&gt;Legionnaire makes? And&lt;br /&gt;now they have these Delatores, given incentive to charge others with crimes for&lt;br /&gt;one-third of the condemned man’s property!"&lt;br /&gt;The Legate was now sizing up my brother and every flaw in Lucius shone in the&lt;br /&gt;light; his cowardly&lt;br /&gt;posture, his trembling hands, his shifty eyes, his growing desperation in the&lt;br /&gt;pursing of his lips.&lt;br /&gt;I turned to Lucius.&lt;br /&gt;"Do you realize, you madman, whoever you are, what you are asking of this&lt;br /&gt;seasoned and wise Roman officer'? What if he should believe your insane lies?&lt;br /&gt;What will become of him when the letter arrives from Rome inquiring into my&lt;br /&gt;whereabouts and the disposition of my fortune!”&lt;br /&gt;“Sir, this woman is a traitor." shouted Lucius. “On my honor I swear –”&lt;br /&gt;“What honor is that?” asked the soldier under his breath. His eyes fixed on&lt;br /&gt;Lucius.&lt;br /&gt;“If Rome were such," I said, “that families as old as mine could be so easily&lt;br /&gt;dispatched as this man asks you now to do with me, then why would the widow of&lt;br /&gt;Germanicus dare to go before the Senate for a trial'?”&lt;br /&gt;“They are all executed,” said my brother, who was at his worst and most solemn,&lt;br /&gt;and seemed to have lost all touch with the effect of his words, "every one of&lt;br /&gt;them, because they were in a plot to kill Tiberius and I was given Safe Conduct&lt;br /&gt;and passage out for reporting them, as was my duty, to the Delatores, and to&lt;br /&gt;Sejanus, with whom I spoke myself!"&lt;br /&gt;The possibilities were making themselves known slowly to the Legate.&lt;br /&gt;“Sir," I said to Lucius, “have you anything else on your person that identifies&lt;br /&gt;you'?”&lt;br /&gt;“I don't need anything else!" said Lucius. "Your fate is death."&lt;br /&gt;“Same as it was for your Father?" asked the Legate, “and your wife? Had you&lt;br /&gt;children?”&lt;br /&gt;“Throw her into prison tonight, and write to Rome!” declared Lucius. "You’ll see&lt;br /&gt;that I speak the&lt;br /&gt;truth!"&lt;br /&gt;"And where will you be, whoever you are, while I am in prison? Looting my&lt;br /&gt;house?”&lt;br /&gt;“You slut!” shouted Lucius. “Don’t you see this is all feminine wiles and lurid&lt;br /&gt;distraction!"&lt;br /&gt;There was shock among the soldiers, revulsion in the face of the Legate. Flavius&lt;br /&gt;moved next to me.&lt;br /&gt;“Officer,” asked Flavius with tempered dignity, “what am I allowed to do on&lt;br /&gt;behalf of my Mistress&lt;br /&gt;against this madman?”&lt;br /&gt;"You use such words again, Sir,” I said firmly to Lucius, “and I’ll lose my&lt;br /&gt;patience.”&lt;br /&gt;The Legate took Lucius’s arm. Lucius’s right hand went to his dagger.&lt;br /&gt;“Just who are you?" the Legate demanded. “Are you one of the Delatores? You tell&lt;br /&gt;me you turned on&lt;br /&gt;your whole family'?”&lt;br /&gt;“Tribune,” I said, laying the gentlest touch yet on his arm. “My Father’s roots&lt;br /&gt;went back to the time of&lt;br /&gt;Romulus and Remus. We know no origins other than those in Rome. It was the same&lt;br /&gt;with my&lt;br /&gt;Mother, who was herself the daughter of a Senator. This man is saying rather...&lt;br /&gt;horrible things.”&lt;br /&gt;“So it seems,” said the Legate, narrowing his gaze, as he inspected Lucius.&lt;br /&gt;"Where are your friends&lt;br /&gt;here, your companions; where do you live?”&lt;br /&gt;“You can’t do anything to me!" said Lucius.&lt;br /&gt;The Legate glared at Lucius’s hand on the dagger.&lt;br /&gt;"You prepare to draw that against me!" asked the Legate.&lt;br /&gt;Lucius dearly was at a loss.&lt;br /&gt;“Why did you come to Antioch?” I demanded of Lucius. "Were you the bearer of the&lt;br /&gt;poison that killed Germanicus?”&lt;br /&gt;“Arrest her!” shouted Lucius.&lt;br /&gt;“No, I don't believe my own accusation. Not even Sejanus would put such&lt;br /&gt;treachery in the hands of a petty scoundrel like you! Come now, what else do you&lt;br /&gt;have on your person to connect you with this family, this Safe Conduct which you&lt;br /&gt;say came from the pen of Sejanus?”&lt;br /&gt;Lucius was utterly baffled.&lt;br /&gt;“I certainly have nothing belonging to me to connect me to your wild and bloody&lt;br /&gt;sagas and tales,” I said.&lt;br /&gt;The Legate interrupted me. “Nothing to connect you to this name?" He took the&lt;br /&gt;Safe Conduct from my hand.&lt;br /&gt;“Absolutely nothing,” I said, "nothing but this madman here who is spouting&lt;br /&gt;horrors, and would lead the world to believe that our Emperor has lost his wits.&lt;br /&gt;Only he connects me with his bloody plot without witness or verification, and&lt;br /&gt;hurls insults at me."&lt;br /&gt;The Legate rolled up the Safe Conduct. “And your purpose here, Madam?” he asked&lt;br /&gt;in a whisper.&lt;br /&gt;“To live in peace and quiet,” I said softly. “To live in safety and under the&lt;br /&gt;true shelter of Roman rule.”&lt;br /&gt;Now I knew the battle had been won. But something else was required to seal the&lt;br /&gt;victory. I took another gamble.&lt;br /&gt;Slowly I reached for my dagger and slowly I brought it out of its sling.&lt;br /&gt;Lucius leapt back at once. He drew his dagger and lunged at me. He was&lt;br /&gt;immediately stabbed by the Legate and at least two of the soldiers.&lt;br /&gt;He hung there bleeding on their weapons, staring from right to left, and then he&lt;br /&gt;spoke, but his mouth was too full of blood. His eyes widened; it seemed again he&lt;br /&gt;would speak. Then, as the soldiers withdrew their daggers, his body folded up on&lt;br /&gt;the cobblestones at the foot of the stairs.&lt;br /&gt;My brother Lucius was quite mercifully dead.&lt;br /&gt;I looked at him and shook my head.&lt;br /&gt;The Legate looked at me. This was a significant moment, and I knew it.&lt;br /&gt;“What is it, Tribune,” I asked, "that separates us from the long-haired&lt;br /&gt;barbarians of the North? Is it not law'? Written law? Traditional law? Is it not&lt;br /&gt;justice? That men and women are called to account for what they do?”&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, Madam,” he said.&lt;br /&gt;“You know,” l went on in a reverent voice, staring at this heap of blood and&lt;br /&gt;clothes and flesh that lay on the stones, “I saw our great Emperor Caesar&lt;br /&gt;Augustus on the day of his death.”&lt;br /&gt;“You saw him? You did?"&lt;br /&gt;I nodded. “When they were certain he was to die, we were rushed to him with a&lt;br /&gt;few other close friends. It was his hope to put down rumors in the capital that&lt;br /&gt;might lead to unrest. He had sent for a mirror and combed his hair. He was&lt;br /&gt;primly propped up. And he asked us as we entered the room: Didn’t we think he'd&lt;br /&gt;played his part well in the comedy of life?&lt;br /&gt;“I thought, what courage! And then he made some further joke, the old theatrical&lt;br /&gt;line they say after plays:&lt;br /&gt;If I have made you happy, kindly let me know your appreciation with a warm&lt;br /&gt;goodbye.&lt;br /&gt;“I could tell you more, but –"&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, please do," said the Legate.&lt;br /&gt;“Well, why not?” I asked. “It was told to me that the Emperor said of Tiberius,&lt;br /&gt;his chosen successor, ‘Poor Rome, to be chewed slowly by those sluggish jaws!’ "&lt;br /&gt;The Legate smiled. “But there wasn’t anyone else,” he said under his breath.&lt;br /&gt;“Thank you, Tribune, for all your assistance. Would you allow me to take from my&lt;br /&gt;purse sufficient funds to treat you and your soldiers to a fine dinner –”&lt;br /&gt;“No, Madam, I wouldn't have it be said I or any man here was bribed. Now this&lt;br /&gt;dead man. Do you know anything more of him?”&lt;br /&gt;"Only this, Officer, that his body probably belongs in the river.”&lt;br /&gt;The soldiers all laughed among themselves.&lt;br /&gt;"Good night, Gracious Lady,” said the soldier.&lt;br /&gt;And off I went, striding across the blackness of the Forum, with my beloved&lt;br /&gt;one-legged Flavius at my side and the torchbearers round us.&lt;br /&gt;Only now did I shake all over. Only now did the sweat cover my whole body.&lt;br /&gt;When we had plunged deeply into the unbroken darkness of a small alleyway, I&lt;br /&gt;said, “Flavius, let these torchbearers go. There is no reason for them to know&lt;br /&gt;where we are headed.”&lt;br /&gt;“Madam, I don’t have any lantern.”&lt;br /&gt;“The night’s full of stars and has a near full moon. Look! Besides, there are&lt;br /&gt;others from the Temple who are following us.”&lt;br /&gt;“There are?” he asked. He paid off the torchbearers and they ran back towards&lt;br /&gt;the mouth of the street.&lt;br /&gt;“Yes. There is one watching. And besides, we can see well enough by the lighted&lt;br /&gt;windows and Heaven's light, don’t you think? I am tired, so tired.”&lt;br /&gt;I walked on, reminding myself again and again that Flavius could not keep up. I&lt;br /&gt;began to weep.&lt;br /&gt;"Tell me something with your great philosophical knowledge,” I said as I walked&lt;br /&gt;on, determined to make the tears stop. “Tell me why evil people are so stupid'?&lt;br /&gt;Why are so many of them just plain stupid?"&lt;br /&gt;“Madam, I think there are quite a few evil people who are quite clever,” he&lt;br /&gt;said. “But never have I seen such skilled rhetoric on the part of anyone, either&lt;br /&gt;bad or good, as your talents revealed just now.”&lt;br /&gt;“I’m delighted that you know that that is all it was," I said. “Rhetoric. And to&lt;br /&gt;think he had the same teachers as I, the same library, the same Father –” My&lt;br /&gt;voice broke.&lt;br /&gt;He put his arm gingerly about my shoulder and this time I didn't tell him to&lt;br /&gt;move away. I let him steady me. We walked faster as a pair.&lt;br /&gt;“No,” I said, "Flavius, the majority of the evil are just plain dumb, I’ve seen&lt;br /&gt;it all my life. The true crafty evil person is rare. It’s bumbling that causes&lt;br /&gt;most of the misery of the world, utter stupid bumbling. It’s underestimation of&lt;br /&gt;one’s fellow man! You watch what happens with Tiberius. Tiberius Caesar and the&lt;br /&gt;Guard. Watch what happens to that damned Sejanus. You can sow the seeds of&lt;br /&gt;distrust everywhere, and lose yourself in an overgrown field."&lt;br /&gt;“We are home, Madam,” he said.&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, thank God, you know it. I could never have told you this was the house.”&lt;br /&gt;Within moments, he stopped and turned the key in a lock. The smell of urine was&lt;br /&gt;everywhere overpowering, as it always was in the back streets of ancient cities.&lt;br /&gt;A lantern threw a dim light on our wooden door. The light danced in the jet of&lt;br /&gt;water which fell from the lion’s mouth in the fountain.&lt;br /&gt;Flavius gave a series of knocks. It sounded to me as if the women answering the&lt;br /&gt;inner door were crying.&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, Lord, now what." I said. “I am too sleepy. Whatever it is, tend to it.”&lt;br /&gt;I went inside.&lt;br /&gt;“Madam,” squealed one of the girls. I couldn’t remember her name. “I didn’t let&lt;br /&gt;him in. I swear I never unbolted the door. I have no key to the gate. We had&lt;br /&gt;this house, all this, ready for you!” She sobbed.&lt;br /&gt;“What on Earth are you talking about?” I asked.&lt;br /&gt;But I knew. I’d seen in the corner of my eye. I knew. I turned and saw a very&lt;br /&gt;tall Roman sitting in my newly refurbished living room. He sat relaxed with&lt;br /&gt;ankle on knee in a gilded wooden chair.&lt;br /&gt;“It's all right, Flavius,” I said. “I know him.”&lt;br /&gt;And I did. Because it was Marius. Marius the tall Keltoi. Marius, who had&lt;br /&gt;charmed me in childhood. Marius, whom I had almost identified in the shadows of&lt;br /&gt;the Temple.&lt;br /&gt;He rose at once.&lt;br /&gt;He came towards me, where I stood in the darkness on the edges of the atrium,&lt;br /&gt;and he whispered, "My beautiful Pandora!”&lt;br /&gt;7&lt;br /&gt;He stopped just short of touching me.&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, do, please," I said. I moved to kiss him, but he moved away. The room had&lt;br /&gt;scattered lamps. He played the shadows.&lt;br /&gt;“Marius, of course, Marius! And you look not one day older than when I saw you&lt;br /&gt;in my girlhood. Your&lt;br /&gt;face is radiant, and your eyes, how beautiful are your eyes. I would sing these&lt;br /&gt;praises to the accompaniment of a lyre if I could.” Flavius had slowly&lt;br /&gt;withdrawn, taking the distressed girls with him. He made not a sound.&lt;br /&gt;"Pandora," Marius said, “I wish I could take you in my arms, but there are&lt;br /&gt;reasons why I cannot, and&lt;br /&gt;you mustn’t touch me, not because I want it so much, but because I’m not what&lt;br /&gt;you think. You&lt;br /&gt;don’t see the evidence of youth in me; it is something so far afield of the&lt;br /&gt;promises of youth that I’ve only just begun to understand its agonies.”&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly he looked off. He raised his hand for my silence and patience.&lt;br /&gt;“That thing is abroad,” I said. "The burnt blood drinker.”&lt;br /&gt;“Don’t think on your dreams just now," he said to me directly. “Think on our&lt;br /&gt;youth. I loved you when you were a girl of ten. When you were fifteen I begged&lt;br /&gt;your Father for your hand."&lt;br /&gt;"You did? He never told me this.”&lt;br /&gt;He looked away again. Then he shook his head.&lt;br /&gt;“The burnt one," I said.&lt;br /&gt;“I feared this,” he cursed himself. “He followed you from the Temple! Oh,&lt;br /&gt;Marius! You are a fool. You have played into his hands. But he is not as clever&lt;br /&gt;as he thinks.”&lt;br /&gt;"Marius, was it you who sent me the dreams!"&lt;br /&gt;“No, never! I would do anything in my power to protect you from myself."&lt;br /&gt;"And from the old legends?"&lt;br /&gt;“Don’t be quick of wit, Pandora. I know your immense cleverness served you well&lt;br /&gt;back there with your loathsome brother Lucius and the gentleman Legate. But&lt;br /&gt;don’t think too much about... dreams. Dreams are nothing, and dreams will pass.”&lt;br /&gt;“Then the dreams came from him, this hideous burnt killer?"&lt;br /&gt;“I can’t figure it!” he said. “But don't think on the images. Don’t feed him now&lt;br /&gt;with your mind.”&lt;br /&gt;“He reads minds,” I said, “just as you do.”&lt;br /&gt;“Yes. But you can cloak your thoughts. It’s a mental trick. You can learn it.&lt;br /&gt;You can walk with your soul locked up in a little metal box in your head.”&lt;br /&gt;I realized he was in much pain. An immense sadness came from him. "This cannot&lt;br /&gt;be allowed to happen!” he insisted.&lt;br /&gt;“What is that, Marius? You speak about the woman’s voice, you –"&lt;br /&gt;"No, be quiet.”&lt;br /&gt;"I will not! I will get to the bottom of this!”&lt;br /&gt;“You must take my instructions!" He stepped forward and again he reached to&lt;br /&gt;touch me, to take me by the arms, as my Father might have done, but then he did&lt;br /&gt;not.&lt;br /&gt;“No, it is you who must tell me everything,” I said.&lt;br /&gt;I was amazed at the whiteness of his skin, its utter blemishless perfection. And&lt;br /&gt;once again the radiance of his eyes seemed almost impossible. Inhuman.&lt;br /&gt;Only now did I see the full glory of his long hair. He did look like the Keltoi,&lt;br /&gt;who had been his ancestors. His hair touched his shoulders. It was a gleaming&lt;br /&gt;gold, overly bright, yellow as corn and full of soft curls.&lt;br /&gt;"Look at you!" I whispered. "You’re not alive!”&lt;br /&gt;“No, take your last look, for you are leaving here!”&lt;br /&gt;“What?" I said. “Last look?” I repeated his words. “What are you talking about!&lt;br /&gt;I’ve only arrived, laid my plans, rid myself of my brother! I am not leaving&lt;br /&gt;here. Do you mean to say you are leaving me'?"&lt;br /&gt;There was a terrible anguish in his face, a courageous appeal that I had never&lt;br /&gt;seen in any man, not even in my Father, who had worked swiftly in those last&lt;br /&gt;fatal moments at home, as if he were merely intent on sending me on an important&lt;br /&gt;appointment.&lt;br /&gt;Marius’s eyes were filmed with blood. He was crying, and his eyes were sore with&lt;br /&gt;the tears! No! These were tears like the tears of the magnificent Queen in the&lt;br /&gt;dream, who, bound to her throne, wept and stained her cheeks and her throat and&lt;br /&gt;her linen.&lt;br /&gt;He wanted to deny it. He shook his head, but he knew I was quite convinced.&lt;br /&gt;"Pandora, when I saw it was you,” he said, “when you came into the Temple and I&lt;br /&gt;saw it was you who had had these blood dreams, I was beside myself. I must get&lt;br /&gt;you far from this, far from all danger.”&lt;br /&gt;I separated myself from his spell, from the aura of his beauty. I beheld him&lt;br /&gt;with a cold eye, and I listened as he went on, noting all about him, from the&lt;br /&gt;glitter of his eyes to the way that he gestured.&lt;br /&gt;"You have to leave Antioch at once,” he said. “I will stay here the night with&lt;br /&gt;you. Then in the day, you pick up your faithful Flavius and your two girls, they&lt;br /&gt;are honest, and you take them with you. You put miles between you and this place&lt;br /&gt;by day, and this thing can’t follow you! Don’t tell me now where you mean to go.&lt;br /&gt;You can discuss all this at the docks in the morning. You have plenty of money.”&lt;br /&gt;“You are the one who is dreaming now, Marius; I am not going. Who is it&lt;br /&gt;precisely that you want me to flee? The weeping Queen on her throne? Or the&lt;br /&gt;prowling, burnt one? The former reaches me over miles and miles of sea with her&lt;br /&gt;summons. She warns me against my evil brother. The other I can easily dispatch.&lt;br /&gt;I have no fear of him. I know what he is from the dreams, and I know how the sun&lt;br /&gt;has hurt him, and I will myself pin him to the wall in the sun.”&lt;br /&gt;He was silent, biting his lip.&lt;br /&gt;“I will do that for her, for the Queen in the dreams, to avenge her.”&lt;br /&gt;“Pandora, I am begging you.”&lt;br /&gt;"In vain,” I said. “Do you think I have come so far only to run again? And the&lt;br /&gt;woman’s voice –”&lt;br /&gt;“How do you know it was this Queen of whom you dreamt? There could be other&lt;br /&gt;blood drinkers in this city. Men, women. They all want the same thing.”&lt;br /&gt;“And you fear them?"&lt;br /&gt;“Loathe them! And I must keep clear of them, not give them what they want! Never&lt;br /&gt;give them what they want."&lt;br /&gt;"Ah, I see it all," I said.&lt;br /&gt;“You do not!" he said, scowling down at me. So fierce, so perfect.&lt;br /&gt;"You are one of them, Marius. You are whole. You are unburnt. They want your&lt;br /&gt;blood to heal themselves.”&lt;br /&gt;"How could you think of such a thing?”&lt;br /&gt;“In my dreams, they called the Queen 'the Fount.' “&lt;br /&gt;I flew at him and imprisoned him in my arms! He&lt;br /&gt;was powerfully strong, solid as a tree! I never felt&lt;br /&gt;such hardness of muscle in a man. I lay my head on his shoulder, and his cheek&lt;br /&gt;against the top of my head was cold!&lt;br /&gt;But he enfolded me gently with both arms, stroking my hair, pulling it down out&lt;br /&gt;of all the pins and letting it flow down my back. I felt a rich tingling all&lt;br /&gt;over the surface of my skin.&lt;br /&gt;Hard, so hard, yet with no pulse of life. No warmth of human blood in his&lt;br /&gt;gentle, sweet gestures.&lt;br /&gt;“My darling,” he said, “I don’t know the source of your dreams, but I know this.&lt;br /&gt;You will be protected from me and from them. You will never become part of this&lt;br /&gt;old tale that goes on verse by verse no matter how the world changes! I won’t&lt;br /&gt;allow it.”&lt;br /&gt;“Explain these things to me. I will not cooperate with you until you explain&lt;br /&gt;everything. Do you know the anguish of the Queen of the dream? Her tears are&lt;br /&gt;like yours. Look Blood. You stain your tunic! Is she here, this Queen; has she&lt;br /&gt;summoned me'?”&lt;br /&gt;"And what if she has and she wants to punish you for this former life you dreamt&lt;br /&gt;in which the evil gods kept her fettered. What if that is so!”&lt;br /&gt;“No," I said. “That is not her intention. Besides, I wouldn’t do what the dark&lt;br /&gt;gods of the dream said. I wouldn't drink from 'the Fount.’ I ran and that’s why&lt;br /&gt;I died in the desert.”&lt;br /&gt;“Ah!” He threw up his hands! And walked away. He stared out into the dark&lt;br /&gt;peristyle. Only the stars lighted the trees there. I saw a faint glow coming&lt;br /&gt;from the far dining room on the other side of the house.&lt;br /&gt;I looked at him, at his great height and the straightness of his back, and the&lt;br /&gt;way his feet were so&lt;br /&gt;firmly fixed on the mosaic floor. The lamps made his blond hair glorious.&lt;br /&gt;I heard him, though he whispered with his back to me.&lt;br /&gt;“How could this stupid thing have happened!"&lt;br /&gt;"What stupid thing!” I demanded. I came to his side. “You mean that I am here,&lt;br /&gt;in Antioch. I’ll tell&lt;br /&gt;you how. My Father arranged my escape, that's how...”&lt;br /&gt;“No, no, I don’t mean that. I want you to be safe, alive, out of all danger,&lt;br /&gt;protected, so that you flower&lt;br /&gt;as you are meant to do. Your petals aren’t even bruised at the edges, look at&lt;br /&gt;you, and your boldness&lt;br /&gt;heats your beauty! Your brother had no chance against your learning or your&lt;br /&gt;rhetoric. And yet you&lt;br /&gt;charmed the soldiers and made slaves of them with your superiority, never once&lt;br /&gt;rousing their resentment. You have years of life in you! But I must think of&lt;br /&gt;some way to make you safe. Look. This is the&lt;br /&gt;heart of it. You have to leave Antioch during the day.”&lt;br /&gt;“ ‘Friend of the Temple,’ that's what the Priest and Priestess called you. They&lt;br /&gt;said you could read&lt;br /&gt;the old script. They said you bought up all the Egyptian books when they came&lt;br /&gt;into the port. Why?&lt;br /&gt;If you seek her, the Queen, then seek her through me, because it is she who said&lt;br /&gt;that she had summoned me.”&lt;br /&gt;"She didn't speak in the dreams! You don’t know who spoke the words! What if the&lt;br /&gt;dreams do have their root in your migrant soul? What if you have lived before?&lt;br /&gt;And now you come to the Temple and there is one of these loathed ancient gods on&lt;br /&gt;the prowl and you are in danger. You must get away, from here, from me, from&lt;br /&gt;this wounded hunter, whom I will find.”&lt;br /&gt;“You’re not telling me all you know! What happened to you, Marius! What&lt;br /&gt;happened! Who did this to you, this miracle of your radiance. This is no cloak;&lt;br /&gt;the light comes from within!"&lt;br /&gt;“Damn it, Pandora, do you think I wanted my life foreshortened and my destiny&lt;br /&gt;extended forever!” He was suffering. He looked at me, unwilling to speak, and I&lt;br /&gt;felt such pain coming from him, such loneliness, that for a moment it was&lt;br /&gt;unbearable.&lt;br /&gt;I felt a wave of my own anguish of the long night before, when the utter vacuity&lt;br /&gt;of all religions and creeds had struck me hard and the sheer effort of a good&lt;br /&gt;life seemed a fool’s trap, and nothing more.&lt;br /&gt;He suddenly dosed his arms around me, surprising me, holding me firmly and&lt;br /&gt;rubbing his cheek gently against my hair, and kissing my head. Silken, polished,&lt;br /&gt;gentle beyond words. “Pandora, Pandora, Pandora,” he said. “The beautiful little&lt;br /&gt;girl grown into the marvelous woman.”&lt;br /&gt;I held this hard effigy of the most spectacular and singular man I had ever&lt;br /&gt;known or seen: I held it and this time heard the beating of his heart, the&lt;br /&gt;distinct rhythm of it. I laid my ear on his chest.&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, Marius, if only I could lay my head to rest next to yours. If I could only&lt;br /&gt;yield to your protection. But you are driving me away! You don’t promise&lt;br /&gt;guardianship, you ordain flight for me, wandering and more nightmares, and&lt;br /&gt;mystery, and despair. No. I can’t.”&lt;br /&gt;I turned away from his caresses. I could feel his kisses on my hair.&lt;br /&gt;“Don't tell me that I’ll never see you again. Don’t think I can bear that along&lt;br /&gt;with everything else that’s happened. I have no one here, and then who comes but&lt;br /&gt;one who left such a stamp on my girlish heart that the details are as deep as&lt;br /&gt;the finest coin. And you Say you will never see me again, that I must go."&lt;br /&gt;I turned around.&lt;br /&gt;It was lust shining in his eyes. Yet he checked it. In a soft voice, he&lt;br /&gt;confessed with a little smile:&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, how I admired your work with the Legate. I thought the two of you would&lt;br /&gt;plan out the whole conquest of the Germanic tribes on your own.” He sighed. "You&lt;br /&gt;must find a good life, a rich life, a life where your soul and body are fed."&lt;br /&gt;The color flared in his face, He looked at me, at my breasts, at my hips and&lt;br /&gt;then at my face. Ashamed and trying to conceal it. Lust.&lt;br /&gt;"Are you a man still?” I asked.&lt;br /&gt;He didn’t answer me. But his expression grew chilly.&lt;br /&gt;"You will never know the full extent of what I am!" he said.&lt;br /&gt;“Ah, but not a man.” I said. "Am I right? Not a man."&lt;br /&gt;“Pandora, you are deliberately taunting me. Why? Why do this?”&lt;br /&gt;“This transformation, this induction into the blood drinkers; it’s added no&lt;br /&gt;inches to your height. Did it add any inches anywhere else?”&lt;br /&gt;"Please stop this," he said.&lt;br /&gt;“Want me, Marius. Say that you do. I see it. Confirm it in words. What does that&lt;br /&gt;cost you?”&lt;br /&gt;“You are infuriating!” he said. His face colored deeply with his rage, and&lt;br /&gt;pressed his lips together so hard that they went white. “Thank the gods that I&lt;br /&gt;don't want you! Not enough to betray love for brief and bloody ecstasy.”&lt;br /&gt;“The Temple people, they don’t really know what you are, do they?”&lt;br /&gt;“No!” he said.&lt;br /&gt;“And you will not lay open your heart to me.”&lt;br /&gt;“Never. You will forget me and these dreams will fade. I wager I can make them&lt;br /&gt;fade, myself, through prayer for you. I will do it.”&lt;br /&gt;“That’s a pious tack,” I said. “What grants you such favor with the ancient&lt;br /&gt;Isis, who drank blood and was the Fount'?”&lt;br /&gt;“Don’t say those words; it’s all lies, all of it. You do not know that this&lt;br /&gt;Queen you saw was Isis. What did you learn in these nightmares? Think. You&lt;br /&gt;learned that this Queen was the prisoner of those who drank blood and she&lt;br /&gt;condemned them! They were evil. Think. Go back into the dream. Think. You&lt;br /&gt;thought them evil, evil then, and you think them evil now. In the Temple, you&lt;br /&gt;caught the scent of evil. I know you did. I watched you."&lt;br /&gt;“Yes. But you’re not evil, Marius, you can’t convince me of this! You have a&lt;br /&gt;body like marble, you're a blood drinker, but like a god, but not evil!"&lt;br /&gt;He was about to protest when he stopped again. He looked out of the corner of&lt;br /&gt;his eye. And then slowly turned his head and let his gaze drift up through the&lt;br /&gt;roof of the peristyle.&lt;br /&gt;“Is it the dawn coming,” I asked, "the rays of Amon Ra?”&lt;br /&gt;“You are the most maddening human being I’ve ever known!" he said. "If I had&lt;br /&gt;married you, you would have put me in an early grave. I would have been spared&lt;br /&gt;all of this!”&lt;br /&gt;"All of what'?”&lt;br /&gt;He called out for Flavius, who had been dose all the while, listening to&lt;br /&gt;everything.&lt;br /&gt;"Flavius, I’m leaving now," he said. "I must. But guard her. When night falls,&lt;br /&gt;I'll be here again, as quickly as I can. Should anything precede me, any badly&lt;br /&gt;scarred and frightening assailant, go for its head with your sword. The head,&lt;br /&gt;remember? And of course your Mistress here will no doubt be quite able to lend a&lt;br /&gt;hand in defending herself."&lt;br /&gt;“Yes, sir. Must we leave Antioch?”&lt;br /&gt;"Watch your words, my faithful Greek," I said. "I am Mistress here. We are not&lt;br /&gt;leaving Antioch."&lt;br /&gt;“Try to persuade her to prepare,” said Marius.&lt;br /&gt;He looked at me.&lt;br /&gt;A long silence fell between us. I knew he read my thoughts. Then a shudder of&lt;br /&gt;the blood dreams passed over me. I saw his eyes brighten. Something quickened in&lt;br /&gt;his expression. I shook off the dream, filled with terror. I am no hostess to&lt;br /&gt;terror.&lt;br /&gt;“It’s all interwound,” I murmured, ”the dreams, the Temple, you being there,&lt;br /&gt;their calling on you for help. What are you, some white god put on Earth to hunt&lt;br /&gt;the dark blood drinkers'? Does the Queen live?”&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, I wish I were such a god." he said. “I would be if I could be! That no more&lt;br /&gt;blood drinkers will ever be made, of that I am certain. Let them lay flowers on&lt;br /&gt;an altar before a statue of basalt!"&lt;br /&gt;I felt such love for him and rushed to him suddenly. "Take me with you now,&lt;br /&gt;wherever you are&lt;br /&gt;going.&lt;br /&gt;“I can’t!” he said. He blinked as though something hurt his eyes. He couldn't&lt;br /&gt;fully lift his head.&lt;br /&gt;“It’s the coming light, isn't it? You are one of them.”&lt;br /&gt;"Pandora, when I come to you, be ready to leave this place!” he said.&lt;br /&gt;And he vanished.&lt;br /&gt;Like that, he vanished. Like that, he was gone from my arms and from my living&lt;br /&gt;room and from&lt;br /&gt;my house.&lt;br /&gt;I turned away and walked slowly about the shadowy living room. I looked at the&lt;br /&gt;murals on the&lt;br /&gt;walls; the happy dancing figures with their laurels and their crowns of leaves&lt;br /&gt;– Bacchus and his nymphs, so modestly covered for such a riotous crew!&lt;br /&gt;Flavius spoke. “Madam, a sword which I found among your possessions, may I have&lt;br /&gt;it in readiness?”&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, and daggers galore, and fire, do not forget fire. It will run from fire.”&lt;br /&gt;I sighed. How did I know&lt;br /&gt;this? I did. So much for it. “But Flavius.” I turned around. “It won’t come&lt;br /&gt;until dark. There is only a&lt;br /&gt;small margin of the night left. We can both sleep as soon as we see the sky turn&lt;br /&gt;purple.” I lifted my hand&lt;br /&gt;to my forehead. “I am trying to remember..."&lt;br /&gt;“What, Madam?" Flavius said. He looked no less splendid after the spectacle of&lt;br /&gt;Marius, simply a man&lt;br /&gt;of different proportion but equally fine, and with warm human skin. “Whether the&lt;br /&gt;dreams ever came by day. Was it always night Oh, I am sleepy and they summon me.&lt;br /&gt;Flavius, put a light in my bath. But I’m going to bed. I am drowsy. Can you&lt;br /&gt;watch'?”&lt;br /&gt;“Yes, Madam.”&lt;br /&gt;“Look, the stars have all but faded. What is it like to be one of them, Flavius,&lt;br /&gt;to be admired only in the&lt;br /&gt;darkness, when men and women live with candles and lamps. To be known and&lt;br /&gt;described, only in the&lt;br /&gt;heaviness of night, when all the business of day has ended!”&lt;br /&gt;"You are truly the most resourceful woman I've ever known," he said. "How you&lt;br /&gt;brought justice to&lt;br /&gt;the man who accused you.” He took my arm, and we moved towards the bedchamber&lt;br /&gt;where I had&lt;br /&gt;dressed that morning.&lt;br /&gt;I loved him. An entire lifetime of crises could not have made it stronger.&lt;br /&gt;"You will not sleep in the great bed of the house, in the dining room?”&lt;br /&gt;“No,” I said. “That is for the display of marriage, and I will never know&lt;br /&gt;marriage again. I want to bathe, but I’m so sleepy."&lt;br /&gt;“I can wake the girls.”&lt;br /&gt;"No, to the bed. You have a chamber proper?”&lt;br /&gt;"Yes," he led the way. It was still quite dark. I thought I heard a rustling&lt;br /&gt;noise. Realized it was nothing.&lt;br /&gt;And there lay the bed with its small lamp, and on the bed so many pillows in the&lt;br /&gt;Oriental style, a soft soft nest into which I fell, like a Persian.&lt;br /&gt;At once, the dream:&lt;br /&gt;We blood drinkers stood in a vast Temple. It was meant to be dark. We could see&lt;br /&gt;this dark, as certain animals must see in the dark. We were all bronze-skinned,&lt;br /&gt;or tanned, or golden. We were all men.&lt;br /&gt;On the floor lay the Queen screaming. Her skin was white. Pure white. Her long&lt;br /&gt;hair was black. Her crown bore the horns and the sun! The crown of Isis. She was&lt;br /&gt;the goddess! It took five blood drinkers on either side to hold her down. She&lt;br /&gt;thrashed her head from side to side, her eyes seeming to crackle with Divine&lt;br /&gt;Light.&lt;br /&gt;"I am your Queen! You cannot do this to me!” How purely white she was, and her&lt;br /&gt;screams grew ever more desperate and imploring. “Great Osiris, save me from&lt;br /&gt;this! Save me from these blasphemers! Save me from the profane!”&lt;br /&gt;The Priest beside me sneered at her.&lt;br /&gt;The King sat motionless on the throne. But it was not to this King that she&lt;br /&gt;prayed. She prayed to an Osiris beyond.&lt;br /&gt;“Hold her more tightly.”&lt;br /&gt;Two more came to secure her ankles.&lt;br /&gt;"Drink!" said the Priest to me. “Kneel down and drink from her blood. Her blood&lt;br /&gt;is more powerful than any blood that exists in the world. Drink.“&lt;br /&gt;She cried softly.&lt;br /&gt;"Monsters, demon children!” she sobbed.&lt;br /&gt;“I won’t do it," I said.&lt;br /&gt;"Do it! You must have her blood!”&lt;br /&gt;"No, not against her will. Not like this! She's our Mother Isis!”&lt;br /&gt;“She is our Fount and our prisoner.”&lt;br /&gt;“No," I said.&lt;br /&gt;The Priest shoved me forward. I knocked him down to the floor. I looked at her.&lt;br /&gt;She looked at me as indiscriminately as she looked at the others. Her face was&lt;br /&gt;delicate and exquisitely painted. Her rage did not distort her features. Her&lt;br /&gt;voice was low and full of hatred.&lt;br /&gt;“I will destroy you all,” she said. “Some morning, I will escape and walk into&lt;br /&gt;the sun’s light and all of you will burn! All of you will burn! As I burn!&lt;br /&gt;Because I am the Fount! And the evil in me will be burnt and extinguished in all&lt;br /&gt;of you forever. Come, you miserable fledgling,” she said to me. "Do as they say.&lt;br /&gt;Drink, and wait my vengeance.&lt;br /&gt;“The god Amon Ra will rise in the East and I will walk towards him, and his&lt;br /&gt;deadly rays will kill me. I shall be a sacrifice of fire to destroy every one of&lt;br /&gt;you who has been born of me, transformed by my blood! You greedy wanton gods who&lt;br /&gt;would use the power we possess for gain!”&lt;br /&gt;Then a hideous transformation befell the entire dream. She rose to her feet. She&lt;br /&gt;was pristine and freshly adorned. Torches burst into flame around her, one and&lt;br /&gt;two and three and then many and more, flaring as if they’d just been ignited,&lt;br /&gt;till she was surrounded by flame. The gods were gone. She smiled and beckoned to&lt;br /&gt;me. She lowered her head; the white beneath her eyes shone as she looked up at&lt;br /&gt;me. She smiled. She was cunning.&lt;br /&gt;I woke up screaming.&lt;br /&gt;I was in my bed. Antioch. The lamp burned. Flavius held me. I saw the light&lt;br /&gt;shine on his ivory leg as it was stretched out. I saw the light shine on the&lt;br /&gt;carved toes.&lt;br /&gt;“Hold onto me, hold me!" I said. “Mother Isis! Hold me.&lt;br /&gt;“How long have I been asleep?”&lt;br /&gt;“Only moments," he said.&lt;br /&gt;"No.”&lt;br /&gt;“The sun has just risen. Do you want to go out, lie in the warm sun perhaps?”&lt;br /&gt;"No!” I screamed.&lt;br /&gt;He tightened his warm, desperate comforting grip. “It was only a bad dream, my&lt;br /&gt;beautiful lady,” he said. “Close your eyes. I'll sleep by your side, with my&lt;br /&gt;dagger here."&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, yes, please, please, Flavius. Don’t let me go. Hold me,” I cried.&lt;br /&gt;.I lay down and he snuggled next to me, his knees behind mine, his arm over me.&lt;br /&gt;My eyes opened. I heard Marius's voice again;&lt;br /&gt;“Thank the gods that I don’t want you! Not enough to betray love for brief and&lt;br /&gt;bloody ecstasy.”&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, Flavius,” I said. "My skin! Is my skin burning!" I started to rise. "Put&lt;br /&gt;out the light. Put out the sun!”&lt;br /&gt;"No, Madam, your skin is as beautiful as it always was. Lie down. Let me sing to&lt;br /&gt;you."&lt;br /&gt;“Yes, sing..." I said.&lt;br /&gt;I followed his song, it was Homer, it was Achilles and Hector, and I loved the&lt;br /&gt;way he sang it, the pauses he made, I pictured those heroes, and the high walls&lt;br /&gt;of doomed Troy, and my eyes grew heavy. I drifted. I rested.&lt;br /&gt;He placed his hand over my head, as if to keep the dreams out, as if to be a&lt;br /&gt;human dream catcher. And I sighed as he smoothed my hair.&lt;br /&gt;I pictured Marius, the sheen of his skin. It had been so like that of the Queen,&lt;br /&gt;and the dazzle of his eyes, so truly like that of the Queen, and I heard him&lt;br /&gt;say, “Damn it, Pandora, do you think I wanted my life foreshortened and my&lt;br /&gt;destiny extended forever!"&lt;br /&gt;And there followed, before unconsciousness, the utter despair, the sense of&lt;br /&gt;worthlessness of all striving. Better that we be no more than beasts, like the&lt;br /&gt;lions in the arena.&lt;br /&gt;8&lt;br /&gt;I awoke. I could hear the birds. I wasn’t sure. I calculated that it was still&lt;br /&gt;morning, midmorning.&lt;br /&gt;I walked barefoot into the next room, and through it into the peristyle. I&lt;br /&gt;walked on the tiled edge of the Earth and looked up at the blue sky. The sun had&lt;br /&gt;not yet risen high enough to be seen directly above.&lt;br /&gt;I unbolted the door and went barefoot to the gate. To the first man I saw, a man&lt;br /&gt;of the desert, wearing a long head veil, I said:&lt;br /&gt;“What rime is it? Noon'?"&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, no, Madam," he said. “Not by half. Have you overslept? How lucky for you."&lt;br /&gt;He nodded and went on.&lt;br /&gt;A lamp burned in the living room. I walked into the living room and saw that the&lt;br /&gt;lamp stood on the desk which my servants had prepared for me.&lt;br /&gt;The ink was there and so were the pens, and so were sheets of clean parchment.&lt;br /&gt;I sat down and I wrote down everything that I could remember of the dreams, my&lt;br /&gt;eyes straining to&lt;br /&gt;see by the miserable little lamp in the shadows, too far from the light that&lt;br /&gt;filled the fresh green garden of&lt;br /&gt;the peristyle.&lt;br /&gt;My arm hurt finally from the speed with which I scratched at the parchment. In&lt;br /&gt;detail I described the&lt;br /&gt;last dream, the torches, the Queen's smile, her beckoning to me.&lt;br /&gt;It was done. All the while, I had set aside the pages to dry all about me on the&lt;br /&gt;floor. There was no breeze&lt;br /&gt;or wind to threaten them. I gathered them up.&lt;br /&gt;I went to the edge of the garden deliberately to look at the blue sky, this&lt;br /&gt;sheaf of papers dose to my&lt;br /&gt;breast. Blue and clear.&lt;br /&gt;“And you cover this world,” I said. "And you are changeless, save for one light&lt;br /&gt;that rises and sets,” I&lt;br /&gt;said to the sky. “Then comes the night with deceptive and seductive patterns!”&lt;br /&gt;“Madam!” It was Flavius behind me, and very sleepy, "You've scarcely slept at&lt;br /&gt;all. You need rest. Go&lt;br /&gt;back to bed.”&lt;br /&gt;"Go get my sandals now, hurry," I said.&lt;br /&gt;And as he disappeared, so did I – out the front gate of the house, walking as&lt;br /&gt;fast as I could. I was halfway to the Temple of Isis when I realized the&lt;br /&gt;discomfort of confronting this filthy street in bare feet. I realized I wore the&lt;br /&gt;rumpled linen dresses in which I’d slept. My hair streamed. I didn’t slow my&lt;br /&gt;pace.&lt;br /&gt;I was elated. I was not helpless as when I had fled my Father's house, I was not&lt;br /&gt;edgy and in deep danger as when Lucius had pointed me out to the Roman soldiers&lt;br /&gt;last night.&lt;br /&gt;I was not gripped in fear as I had been when the Queen smiled to me in the&lt;br /&gt;dream. Nor shivering as I had been upon waking.&lt;br /&gt;I walked on and on. I was in the grip of an immense drama. I would see it&lt;br /&gt;through to the last act.&lt;br /&gt;People passed – laborers of the morning, an old man with a crooked stick. I&lt;br /&gt;barely saw these people.&lt;br /&gt;I took a cold small delight in the fact that they noticed my loose, free hair&lt;br /&gt;and my wrinkled gowns. I wondered what it must be like to separate oneself from&lt;br /&gt;all civilization and never worry again about the position of a fastening or a&lt;br /&gt;pin, to sleep on grass, to fear nothing!&lt;br /&gt;Fear nothing! Ah, that was so beautiful to me.&lt;br /&gt;I came to the Forum. The markets were busy; the beggars were out in full force.&lt;br /&gt;Curtained litters were being carried every which way. The philosophers were&lt;br /&gt;teaching under the porticoes. I could hear those huge strange noises that always&lt;br /&gt;come from a harbor – of the cargo being dropped, perhaps, I didn’t know. I&lt;br /&gt;smelled the Orontes. I hoped Lucius’s body was floating in it.&lt;br /&gt;I went up the steps and right into the Temple of Isis.&lt;br /&gt;"The High Priest and Priestess," I said. “I must see them.” I walked past a&lt;br /&gt;confused and distinctly virginal-looking young woman and went into the side&lt;br /&gt;chamber where they had first spoken to me. No table. Only the couch. I went into&lt;br /&gt;another apartment of the Temple. A table. Scrolls.&lt;br /&gt;I heard feet rushing. The Priestess came to me. She was already painted for the&lt;br /&gt;day and her wig and ornaments were in place. I felt no shock as I looked at her.&lt;br /&gt;“Look," I said. "I had another dream.” I pointed to the sheets which I had piled&lt;br /&gt;neatly on the table. “I've written down everything for you."&lt;br /&gt;The Priest arrived. He approached the table and stared at the sheets.&lt;br /&gt;“Read it all, every word. Read it now. Bear witness lest something happens to&lt;br /&gt;me!”&lt;br /&gt;The Priest and Priestess stood on opposite sides of me, the Priest carefully&lt;br /&gt;lifting the pages to study each one, while not actually turning over the stack.&lt;br /&gt;“I am a migrant soul," I said. “She wants some reckoning or favor of me, I don’t&lt;br /&gt;know which, but she lives! She is no mere statue.”&lt;br /&gt;They stared at me.&lt;br /&gt;“Well? Speak up? Everyone comes to you for guidance.”&lt;br /&gt;“But Madam,” said the Priest, “we can’t read any of this."&lt;br /&gt;"What?”&lt;br /&gt;“It’s written in the most ancient and ornate form of the old picture writing.”&lt;br /&gt;“What!"&lt;br /&gt;I stared down at the pages. I saw only my own words as they had flowed in a&lt;br /&gt;cadence from my mind, through my hand, through my pen. I couldn't make my eyes&lt;br /&gt;fix upon the form of the letters.&lt;br /&gt;I lifted the last page and read aloud, "Her smile was cunning. It filled me with&lt;br /&gt;fear.” I held out the page.&lt;br /&gt;They shook their heads in firm denial.&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly there was a little ruckus and Flavius, much out of breath and red in&lt;br /&gt;the face, was admitted to the room. He had my sandals. He took one look at me&lt;br /&gt;and rested back against the wall in great and obvious relief.&lt;br /&gt;“Come here,” I said.&lt;br /&gt;He obeyed.&lt;br /&gt;"Now look at these pages, read them, are they not in Latin?”&lt;br /&gt;Two slaves came timidly, hastily washing my feet and fastening on my sandals,&lt;br /&gt;Above me Flavius looked at the pages.&lt;br /&gt;"This is ancient Egyptian writing," Flavius said. “The oldest form I’ve ever&lt;br /&gt;seen. This would fetch a fortune in Athens!"&lt;br /&gt;"I just wrote it!” I said. I looked at the Priest, then the Priestess. “Summon&lt;br /&gt;your tall blond-haired friend," I said. “Get him here. The mind reader, the one&lt;br /&gt;who can read the old script.”&lt;br /&gt;“We can’t, Madam.” The Priest looked helplessly at the Priestess.&lt;br /&gt;“Why not? Where is he? He only comes after dark, doesn’t he?” I asked.&lt;br /&gt;They both nodded.&lt;br /&gt;“And when he shops for books, all the books on Egypt, he does this by the light&lt;br /&gt;of lamps too?” I asked. I already knew the answer.&lt;br /&gt;They looked at one another helplessly.&lt;br /&gt;"Where does he live?"&lt;br /&gt;“Madam, we do not know. Please don’t try to find him. He will be here as soon as&lt;br /&gt;the light fades. He cautioned us last night that you were most precious to him."&lt;br /&gt;"You don’t know where he lives.”&lt;br /&gt;I stood up.&lt;br /&gt;"All right,” I said, I picked up the sheaf of my pages, my spectacular ancient&lt;br /&gt;writing.&lt;br /&gt;“Your burnt one," I said, as I walked out of the room, “your murdering blood&lt;br /&gt;drinker. Did he come last night? Did he leave you an offering?”&lt;br /&gt;“Yes,” said the Priest. He looked humiliated. “Lady Pandora, rest and take some&lt;br /&gt;food.”&lt;br /&gt;"Yes,” said my loyal Flavius, “you must.”&lt;br /&gt;“Not a chance,” I said. Clutching the pages, I walked across the great hall to&lt;br /&gt;the front doors. They pleaded with me. I ignored them.&lt;br /&gt;I went out into the heat of the day. Flavius followed. The Priest and Priestess&lt;br /&gt;pleaded with us to remain.&lt;br /&gt;I scanned the enormous marketplace. The good booksellers were all grouped at the&lt;br /&gt;far left end of the Forum. I walked across the square.&lt;br /&gt;Flavius struggled to keep up. "Madam, please, what are you going to do? You’ve&lt;br /&gt;lost your mind.”&lt;br /&gt;"I have not and you know it,” I said. “You saw him last night!"&lt;br /&gt;“Madam, wait for him at the Temple, as he asked,” Flavius said.&lt;br /&gt;“Why? Why should I do that?” I asked.&lt;br /&gt;The bookshops were numerous, containing manuscripts in all languages. “Egypt,&lt;br /&gt;Egypt!” I cried out, both in Latin and Greek. There was lots of noise, many&lt;br /&gt;buyers and sellers. Plato was everywhere, and Aristotle. There was a whole stack&lt;br /&gt;of the book of his life by Caesar Augustus, which he had completed in the years&lt;br /&gt;before his death.&lt;br /&gt;“Egypt!" I cried out. Merchants pointed to old scrolls. Fragments.&lt;br /&gt;The canopies flapped in the breeze. I looked into one room after another, at&lt;br /&gt;rows of slaves busily copying, slaves dipping their pens, who did not dare to&lt;br /&gt;look up from their work.&lt;br /&gt;There were slaves outside, in the shade, writing letters dictated by humble men&lt;br /&gt;and women. It was all very busy.&lt;br /&gt;Trunks were being brought into one shop. The owner, an elderly man, came&lt;br /&gt;forward.&lt;br /&gt;“Marius,” I said. “I come from Marius, the tall blond one who comes to your shop&lt;br /&gt;only by night.”&lt;br /&gt;The man said nothing.&lt;br /&gt;I went into the next shop. Everything was Egyptian, not merely the scrolls&lt;br /&gt;rolled out for display but the fragments of painting on the walls, the chunks of&lt;br /&gt;plaster holding still the profile of a King or Queen, rows of little jars,&lt;br /&gt;figures from some long-defiled tomb. How the Egyptians loved to make those tiny&lt;br /&gt;wooden figures.&lt;br /&gt;And there I beheld just the sort of man I sought, the true antiquarian. Only&lt;br /&gt;reluctantly did he look up from his book, a gray-haired man, the book a codex in&lt;br /&gt;modern Egyptian.&lt;br /&gt;“Nothing that would interest Marius?" I asked, walking into the shop. Trunks and&lt;br /&gt;boxes blocked me at each turn. "You know, the tall Roman, Marius, who studies&lt;br /&gt;the ancient manuscripts, buys the most prized of them? You know the man I mean.&lt;br /&gt;Very blue eyes. Blond hair. He comes by night; you stay open for him."&lt;br /&gt;The man nodded. He glanced at Flavius and said with a lift of his eyebrows,&lt;br /&gt;"Quite an ivory leg there.” Cultured Greek. Excellent. “Grecian, Oriental and&lt;br /&gt;perfectly pale.”&lt;br /&gt;“I come on Marius’s behalf,” I said.&lt;br /&gt;“I save everything for him, as he asks," said the man with a little shrug. “I&lt;br /&gt;sell nothing that isn’t offered first to Marius."&lt;br /&gt;"I’m sure you do. I come on his behalf." I looked around. "May I sit down?”&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, please do, forgive me,” said the man. He gestured to a sturdy trunk.&lt;br /&gt;Flavius stood perplexed. The man sat back down at his cluttered table.&lt;br /&gt;“I wish I had a proper table. Where is my slave? I know I have some wine around&lt;br /&gt;here. I just... I was reading in this text the most amazing story!”&lt;br /&gt;“Really,” I said. "Well, take a look at this.” I thrust the pages into his hand.&lt;br /&gt;“My God, but this is beautiful copying,” he said, “and so fresh!" He whispered&lt;br /&gt;under his breath. He could make out many of the words. “Marius will be very&lt;br /&gt;interested in this. This is about the legends of Isis, this is what Marius&lt;br /&gt;studies.”&lt;br /&gt;I drew back the papers gently. “I've written this for him!”&lt;br /&gt;“You wrote it?”&lt;br /&gt;“Yes, but you see, I want to surprise him with something, a gift! Something&lt;br /&gt;newly arrived, something he hasn’t seen yet.”&lt;br /&gt;“Well, there's quite a lot.”&lt;br /&gt;"Flavius, money."&lt;br /&gt;“Madam, I don’t have any.”&lt;br /&gt;"That’s not true, Flavius; you wouldn’t leave the house without the keys and&lt;br /&gt;some money. Hand it over.”&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, I’ll take it on credit if it’s for Marius," said the old man. “Hmmm, you&lt;br /&gt;know, several things came onto the market this very week. It’s because of the&lt;br /&gt;famine in Egypt. People were forced to sell, I suppose. You never know where an&lt;br /&gt;Egyptian manuscript comes from. But here –” He reached up and took a fragile&lt;br /&gt;papyrus from its niche in the dusty crisscross of wooden shelves.&lt;br /&gt;He laid it down reverently and most cautiously opened it. The papyrus had been&lt;br /&gt;well preserved, but it was flaking at the edges. The thing would disintegrate if&lt;br /&gt;not handled with care.&lt;br /&gt;I stood to look at it over his shoulder. A dizziness overcame me. I saw the&lt;br /&gt;desert and a town of huts with roofs of palm branches. I strained to open my&lt;br /&gt;eyes.&lt;br /&gt;“This is,” said the old man, "positively the oldest manuscript in Egyptian which&lt;br /&gt;I have ever seen! Here, steady yourself, my dear. Lean upon my shoulder. Let me&lt;br /&gt;give you my stool.”&lt;br /&gt;“No, not necessary,” I said gazing at the letters. I read aloud, “To my Lord,&lt;br /&gt;Narmer, King of Upper and Lower Egypt, who are these enemies of me that say I do&lt;br /&gt;not walk in righteousness' When has Your Majesty ever known me not to be&lt;br /&gt;righteous? Indeed I seek to do always more than what is asked of me or expected.&lt;br /&gt;When have I not heard every word of the accused so that he may be judged in&lt;br /&gt;fairness, as would Your Majesty?...”&lt;br /&gt;I broke off. My head swam. Some brief recollection. I was a child and we were&lt;br /&gt;all going up into the mountains over the desert to ask the god Osiris, the blood&lt;br /&gt;god, to look into the heart of the evildoer. “Look,” said those around me. The&lt;br /&gt;god was a man of perfection, bronze of skin and under the moon; he took the&lt;br /&gt;condemned and slowly drew out his blood. Beside me a woman whispered that the&lt;br /&gt;god had made his judgment and rendered punishment and the evil blood would go&lt;br /&gt;back now to be cleansed and reborn in another in which it would do no harm.&lt;br /&gt;I tried to banish this vision, this sense of enclosing remembrance. Flavius was&lt;br /&gt;greatly concerned and held me by the shoulders.&lt;br /&gt;I stood suspended in two worlds. I gazed out at the bright sun striking the&lt;br /&gt;stones of the Forum, and I lived somewhere else, a young man running up a&lt;br /&gt;mountain, declaring my innocence. “Summon the old blood god! He will look into&lt;br /&gt;my husband's heart and see that the man lies. I never lay with another.” Oh,&lt;br /&gt;sweet darkness, come, I needed it to shroud the mountains because the blood god&lt;br /&gt;slept by day, hidden, lest Ra, the sun god, find him and destroy him out of&lt;br /&gt;jealousy.&lt;br /&gt;“Because she had conquered them all," I whispered. I meant Queen Isis. “Flavius,&lt;br /&gt;hold me.”&lt;br /&gt;"I have you, Madam.”&lt;br /&gt;“There,” said the old man, who had risen and pushed me down on his stool.&lt;br /&gt;The night over Egypt filled with stars. I saw it as distinctly as I saw this&lt;br /&gt;shop around me in Antioch at midday. I saw the stars and knew I had won. The god&lt;br /&gt;would rule. “Oh, come forth, please, from this mountain, our beloved Osiris, and&lt;br /&gt;look into my husband’s heart and my heart, and if you find me in the wrong, then&lt;br /&gt;my blood is yours, I pledge it.” He was coming! There he was, as I had seen him&lt;br /&gt;in childhood before the Priests of Ra had forbidden the old worship.&lt;br /&gt;"Righteousness, righteousness, righteousness!” the crowd chanted. The man who&lt;br /&gt;was my husband cowered as the god pointed his finger in judgment at him. "Give&lt;br /&gt;me this evil blood and I shall devour it,” said the god. “Then bring back my&lt;br /&gt;offerings. Do not be cowards in the face of a rich priesthood. You stand before&lt;br /&gt;a god.” He pointed at each of the villagers and pronounced his or her name. He&lt;br /&gt;knew trades. He could read their minds! He drew back his lips and showed his&lt;br /&gt;fangs. The vision dissolved. I stared at common objects as though they had life&lt;br /&gt;and venom.&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, yea gods," I said in genuine distress. “I must reach Marius. I must reach&lt;br /&gt;him now!” When he heard these things, Marius would draw me into the truth with&lt;br /&gt;him. He had to do it.&lt;br /&gt;“Hire a litter for your Mistress,” said the old bookseller to Flavius. “She is&lt;br /&gt;overtired, and it’s too long a walk up that hill!”&lt;br /&gt;“Hill?” I perked up. This man knew where Marius lived! I quickly went faint&lt;br /&gt;again, bowing my head, and with a weary gesture said, “Please, old gentleman,&lt;br /&gt;tell my steward precisely how to reach the house.”&lt;br /&gt;“Of course. I know two short cuts, one slightly more difficult than another. We&lt;br /&gt;deliver books to&lt;br /&gt;Marius all the time.”&lt;br /&gt;Flavius was staring aghast.&lt;br /&gt;I tried to suppress my smile. This was going much better than I had ever hoped.&lt;br /&gt;But I was torn and bruised from the visions of Egypt. I hated the look of the&lt;br /&gt;desert, the mountains, the thought of blood gods.&lt;br /&gt;I rose to go.&lt;br /&gt;"It's a pink villa on the very edge of the city,” said the old man. “It’s just&lt;br /&gt;within the walls, overlooking the river, the last house. Once it was a country&lt;br /&gt;house outside the walls. It is on a mountain of stones. But no one will answer&lt;br /&gt;Marius's gate by day. All know how he wants to sleep all day and study all&lt;br /&gt;night, as is his custom. We leave our books with the boys.”&lt;br /&gt;"He’ll welcome me,” I said.&lt;br /&gt;“If you wrote that, most likely he will,” said the old man.&lt;br /&gt;Then we were off. The sun had fully risen. The square was filled with shoppers.&lt;br /&gt;Women carried baskets on their heads. The Temples were thriving. It was a game,&lt;br /&gt;darting through the crowd, one way and then another.&lt;br /&gt;“Come on, Flavius," I said.&lt;br /&gt;It was a torture keeping to Flavius's slow pace as we mounted the hill, turn by&lt;br /&gt;turn, drawing ever doser.&lt;br /&gt;"You know this is madness!” said Flavius. "He can’t be awake during the light of&lt;br /&gt;day; you’ve proven this to me and to yourself! I, the incredulous Athenian, and&lt;br /&gt;you the cynical Roman. What are we doing?"&lt;br /&gt;Up and up we climbed, passing one sumptuous house after another. Locked gates.&lt;br /&gt;The bark of guard dogs.&lt;br /&gt;“Hurry up. Must I listen to this lecture forever'? Ah, there, look, my beloved&lt;br /&gt;Flavius. The pink house, the last house. Marius lives in style, Look at the&lt;br /&gt;walls and the gates."&lt;br /&gt;At last I had my hands on the iron bars. Flavius collapsed on the grass across&lt;br /&gt;the small road. He was spent.&lt;br /&gt;I pulled on the bell rope.&lt;br /&gt;Trees laid down heavy limbs over the top of the walls. Through the mesh of leaf,&lt;br /&gt;I could make out a figure that came out on the high porch of the second floor.&lt;br /&gt;“No admittance!" he cried out.&lt;br /&gt;"I have to see Marius,” I said. “He’s expecting me!" I cupped my hands and&lt;br /&gt;shouted. “He wants me to come. He told me to come.”&lt;br /&gt;Flavius said a quick prayer under his breath. “Oh, Mistress, I hope you know&lt;br /&gt;this man better than you knew your own brother.”&lt;br /&gt;I laughed. “There is no comparison,” I said. “Stop complaining.”&lt;br /&gt;The figure had disappeared. I heard running feet.&lt;br /&gt;Finally two darkheaded young boys appeared before me, little more than children,&lt;br /&gt;beardless, with long black curls, and beautifully dressed in gold-trimmed&lt;br /&gt;tunics. They looked Chaldean.&lt;br /&gt;“Open the gate, hurry!" I said.&lt;br /&gt;“Madam, I can’t admit you," said the speaker of the two. “I cannot admit anyone&lt;br /&gt;to this house until Marius himself comes. Those are his orders.”&lt;br /&gt;"Comes from where?" I asked.&lt;br /&gt;“Madam, he appears when he wishes, then he receives who he will. Madam, please,&lt;br /&gt;tell me your name and I will tell him that you have called.”&lt;br /&gt;"You either open the gate or I will climb over the wall," I said.&lt;br /&gt;The boys were horrified. "No, Madam, you can't do that!”&lt;br /&gt;“Well? Aren’t you going to shout for help?” I asked.&lt;br /&gt;The two slaves stared amazed. They were so pretty. One was slightly taller than&lt;br /&gt;the other. Both wore exquisite bracelets,&lt;br /&gt;"Just as I thought,” I said. “There’s no one else here but you.” I turned and&lt;br /&gt;tested the thick snaggle of vine&lt;br /&gt;that rose over the plastered brick. I leapt up and planted my right foot as high&lt;br /&gt;as I could in the thick&lt;br /&gt;mesh and rose in one leap to throw my arms over the top of the wall.&lt;br /&gt;Flavius had risen from the grass and rushed to me.&lt;br /&gt;“Madam, I beg you not to do this,” said Flavius. “Madam, this is bad, bad, bad!&lt;br /&gt;You can't just limb this man's wall."&lt;br /&gt;The servants within were chattering frantically with one another. I think it was&lt;br /&gt;in Chaldean.&lt;br /&gt;“Madam, I fear for you.” cried Flavius. “How can I protect you from such a man&lt;br /&gt;as this Marius? Madam,&lt;br /&gt;the man will be angry with you!”&lt;br /&gt;I lay on the top of the wall, on my stomach, catching my breath. The garden&lt;br /&gt;inside was vast and&lt;br /&gt;lovely. Ah, what marble fountains. The two slaves had backed up and were staring&lt;br /&gt;at me as if I were a powerful monster.&lt;br /&gt;“Please, please!" both boys pleaded with me at once. “He'll exact a terrible&lt;br /&gt;vengeance! You don’t&lt;br /&gt;know him. Please, Madam, wait!"&lt;br /&gt;“Hand me the sheets of paper, Flavius, hurry. I have no time for disobedience!”&lt;br /&gt;Flavius complied. “Oh, this is wrong, wrong, wrong!” he said. “Nothing can come&lt;br /&gt;of this but the&lt;br /&gt;most fearful misunderstandings.”&lt;br /&gt;Then I slid down the inside of the wall, tickled all over by the thick overlay&lt;br /&gt;of bristling and brilliant&lt;br /&gt;leaves, and I lay my head in the matted tendrils and blossoms. I didn’t fear the&lt;br /&gt;bees. I never have. I rested. I held tight to my written pages. Then moved to&lt;br /&gt;the gate so I could see Flavius.&lt;br /&gt;"You let me handle Marius,” I said. “Now, you didn't come out without your&lt;br /&gt;dagger.”&lt;br /&gt;“No, I did not," he said, lifting his cloak to reveal it, “and with your&lt;br /&gt;permission I would like to plunge it through my heart now so that I will be most&lt;br /&gt;assuredly stone-cold dead before the Master of this house arrives home to find&lt;br /&gt;you running rampant in his garden!”&lt;br /&gt;“Permission denied,” I said. “Don't you dare. Haven’t you heard all that has&lt;br /&gt;been said? You are on guard not against Marius but against a shriveled limping&lt;br /&gt;demon of burnt flesh. He’ll come at dark! What if he reaches here before&lt;br /&gt;Marius?”&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, yea gods, help me!” His hands flew to his face.&lt;br /&gt;“Flavius, straighten up. You are a man! Do I have to remind you of this&lt;br /&gt;perpetually? You are watching for this dreaded burnt bag of bones, and he is&lt;br /&gt;weak Remember what Marius said. Go for his head. Stab him in the eyes, just cut&lt;br /&gt;him and cut him and shout for me, and I will come. Now go to sleep until dark.&lt;br /&gt;He can’t come till then, if he even knows to come here! Besides, I think Marius&lt;br /&gt;will arrive first.”&lt;br /&gt;I turned and walked towards the open doors of the villa. The beautiful&lt;br /&gt;long-haired boys were in tears.&lt;br /&gt;For a moment the tranquillity and moist cool air of the garden lulled all fear&lt;br /&gt;in me, and I seemed safe, among patterns I understood, far far from dark&lt;br /&gt;Temples, safe in Tuscany, in our own family gardens there, which had been so&lt;br /&gt;rich like this.&lt;br /&gt;“Let me beg you one last time to come back out of this man’s garden!” Flavius&lt;br /&gt;shouted.&lt;br /&gt;I ignored him.&lt;br /&gt;All the doors of this lovely plastered villa stood open to the porches above or&lt;br /&gt;the outdoors below. Listen to the trickling of the fountains. There were lemon&lt;br /&gt;trees, and many a marble statue of a lazy, sensuous god or goddess, round which&lt;br /&gt;flowers grew in rich purple or blue. Diana, the huntress, rose from a&lt;br /&gt;bed of orange blossoms, the marble old and pitted.&lt;br /&gt;And there; a lazy Ganymede, half-covered in green moss, marked some path that&lt;br /&gt;had been overgrown.&lt;br /&gt;Far off, I could see the naked bending Venus at her bath on the edge of a pool.&lt;br /&gt;Water flowed into the&lt;br /&gt;pool I glimpsed fountains all around me.&lt;br /&gt;The small common white lilies had gone wild, and there stood old olive trees&lt;br /&gt;with marvelously twisted&lt;br /&gt;trunks, so wondrous to climb in childhood.&lt;br /&gt;A pastoral sweetness hung over all, yet nature had been kept at bay. The stucco&lt;br /&gt;of the walls was&lt;br /&gt;freshly painted, and so were the wooden shutters, opened wide.&lt;br /&gt;The two boys were crying. “Madam, he'll be so angry. ’&lt;br /&gt;“Well, not with you,” I said, as I entered the house. I had come across the&lt;br /&gt;grass and left scarcely any footprint on the marble floor.&lt;br /&gt;“Boys, do stop sobbing! You don’t even have to plead with him to believe you.&lt;br /&gt;Isn’t that true? He’ll&lt;br /&gt;read the truth in your thoughts?”&lt;br /&gt;This startled each in his own way. They looked at me warily.&lt;br /&gt;I stopped just past the threshold. Something emanated from the house, not loud&lt;br /&gt;enough to be called a sound, but very like the rhythmic precursor of a sound. I&lt;br /&gt;had heard this very soundless rhythm before. When was it? In the Temple? When&lt;br /&gt;first I entered the room where Marius had hidden behind the screen?&lt;br /&gt;I walked on marble floors from room to room. Breezes everywhere played with the&lt;br /&gt;hanging lamps. There were many lamps. And the candles. How many candles. And&lt;br /&gt;lamps on stands. Why, when this place was lighted up, it must have been bright&lt;br /&gt;as day!&lt;br /&gt;And gradually I realized the entire lower floor was a library, except for the&lt;br /&gt;inevitable sumptuous Roman bath, and an enormous wardrobe of clothes.&lt;br /&gt;Every other room was filled with books. Nothing but books. Of course there were&lt;br /&gt;couches for lying and reading, and desks for writing, but every wall had its&lt;br /&gt;prodigious stack of scrolls or shelves of bound books.&lt;br /&gt;Also there were strange doors. They appeared to open onto concealed stairwells.&lt;br /&gt;But they had no locks and seemed to be made of polished granite. I found at&lt;br /&gt;least two of these! And one chamber of the first floor was totally enclosed in&lt;br /&gt;stone and locked in the same way, by impenetrable doors.&lt;br /&gt;As the slaves trembled and sobbed I went outside and up the stairs to the second&lt;br /&gt;floor. Empty. Every room simply empty, except the room that obviously belonged&lt;br /&gt;to the boys! There were their beds, and their little Persian altars and gods,&lt;br /&gt;and rich rugs and tasseled pillows and the usual Oriental swirl of design.&lt;br /&gt;I came down.&lt;br /&gt;The boys sat at the main door, as if positioned like marble statues, each with&lt;br /&gt;his knees up, head down,&lt;br /&gt;weeping softly, perhaps getting a bit worn out. “Where are the bedrooms of this&lt;br /&gt;house'? Where Marius’s bedroom'? Where is the kitchen'? Where is the household&lt;br /&gt;shrine?”&lt;br /&gt;One of them let out a soft choking cry. “There are no bedrooms.”&lt;br /&gt;"Of course not,” I said.&lt;br /&gt;“Our food is brought to us,” wailed the other. Cooked and most delicious. But I&lt;br /&gt;fear that, unwittingly, we have enjoyed our last meal.”&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, do take it easy. How can he blame you for what I’ve done? You're merely&lt;br /&gt;children and he’s a&lt;br /&gt;gentle being, is he not? Here, put these pages on his desk, and weight them down&lt;br /&gt;so that they don’t Ay&lt;br /&gt;away.”&lt;br /&gt;“Yes, he is most gentle,” said the boy. “But most set in his ways.”&lt;br /&gt;I dosed my eyes. I sensed the sound again, the emanating encroaching sound. Did&lt;br /&gt;it want to be heard? I couldn’t tell. It seemed impersonal, like the beat of a&lt;br /&gt;sleeping heart or the flow of the water in the&lt;br /&gt;fountains.&lt;br /&gt;I walked over to a large beautiful couch, draped in fine silk with Persian&lt;br /&gt;designs. It was very wide and&lt;br /&gt;seemed to bear, despite much straightening, the imprint of a man's form. There&lt;br /&gt;was the pillow there, all fluffed and fresh, yet still I could see the&lt;br /&gt;indentation of the head, where the man had lain.&lt;br /&gt;“Does he lie here?”&lt;br /&gt;The boys leapt to their feet, curls flying.&lt;br /&gt;“Yes, Madam, that is his couch," said the speaker of the two. "Please, please,&lt;br /&gt;don’t touch it. He lies there for hours and reads. Madam, please! He is most&lt;br /&gt;particular that we do not lie on it playfully in his absence, though he gives us&lt;br /&gt;free rein in every other regard.”&lt;br /&gt;“He’ll know if you even touch it!” said the other boy, speaking up for the first&lt;br /&gt;time.&lt;br /&gt;"I'm going to sleep on it,” I said. I lay down and dosed my eyes. I rolled over&lt;br /&gt;and brought up my knees. “I am tired. I want only sleep. I feel safe for the&lt;br /&gt;first time in so long.”&lt;br /&gt;"You do?" asked one of the boys.&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, come here and lie by me. Bring pillows for your heads, so that he will see&lt;br /&gt;me before he sees you. He knows me well The pages I have brought, where are&lt;br /&gt;they, yes, on the desk, well, they will make it dear why I have come in. It’s&lt;br /&gt;all changed now. Something is wanted from me. I have no choice. There is no road&lt;br /&gt;home. Marius will understand. I've come as dose to him as possible for my&lt;br /&gt;protection.”&lt;br /&gt;I lay back right in the hollow of the pillow where he lay. I took a long deep&lt;br /&gt;breath. “The breeze is like music here," I whispered, "do you hear it'?”&lt;br /&gt;I slept the deep exhausted sleep which I had held off now for so many hours of&lt;br /&gt;boch night and day.&lt;br /&gt;Hours must have passed.&lt;br /&gt;I woke with a start. The sky was purple. The slaves were curled up next to the&lt;br /&gt;couch, just beneath me, like terrified little animals. I heard the noise again,&lt;br /&gt;the sound, distinct, a pulse. I thought oddly of something I used to like to do&lt;br /&gt;as a child. It was this: I would put my ear to my Father’s chest. And when I&lt;br /&gt;heard his heart, then I would kiss it. It had always made him happy.&lt;br /&gt;I rose, realizing that I was not fully awake but certain this was no dream. I&lt;br /&gt;was in the beautiful villa of Marius in Antioch. The marble rooms opened one&lt;br /&gt;upon another.&lt;br /&gt;I went to the last room, the room enclosed in stone. The doors were impossibly&lt;br /&gt;heavy. But suddenly, silently, they opened as if pushed from within.&lt;br /&gt;I entered a massive chamber. Another pair of doors ahead of me. They too were&lt;br /&gt;made of stone. They&lt;br /&gt;had to lead to a stairwell, for the house ended just beyond.&lt;br /&gt;These doors too suddenly opened, as if released by a spring. Light from below.&lt;br /&gt;A stairway went down from the threshold of the door. It was white marble, and&lt;br /&gt;newly made, with no wear of feet on it. So smooth, each slab, so clean.&lt;br /&gt;A soft series of flames burned below, sending their antic shadows up the&lt;br /&gt;stairwell.&lt;br /&gt;The sound now seemed louder. I closed my eyes. Oh, that all the world were these&lt;br /&gt;polished chambers and all that exists could be explained within.&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, I heard a loud cry.&lt;br /&gt;"Lady Pandora!”&lt;br /&gt;I spun around.&lt;br /&gt;“Pandora, he is over the wall!"&lt;br /&gt;The boys came screaming through the house, echoing Flavius’s cry, “Lady&lt;br /&gt;Pandora!”&lt;br /&gt;A great darkness gathered itself right before my eyes and then descended on me,&lt;br /&gt;throwing the helpless, beseeching boys to the side. I was almost pitched down&lt;br /&gt;the stairwell.&lt;br /&gt;Then I realized I was in the grasp of the burnt thing. I looked down to see the&lt;br /&gt;black wrinkled arm, like old leather, that held me. Strong spices filled my&lt;br /&gt;nostrils. Fresh clothing covered the hideously thin leg I saw, the dried-up&lt;br /&gt;foot.&lt;br /&gt;“Boys, get the lamps, set it on fire!” I shouted. I fought desperately, driving&lt;br /&gt;us both back from the stairwell, but I couldn’t get loose from the creature.&lt;br /&gt;“Boys, the lamps downstairs!”&lt;br /&gt;The boys dung to one another.&lt;br /&gt;“I have you!" this creature said tenderly in my ear.&lt;br /&gt;“No, you don’t.” I said, and gave him one fine blow with my right elbow. It&lt;br /&gt;drove him off balance. He nearly toppled. But he didn’t let me go. The whiteness&lt;br /&gt;of his tunic glowed in the shadows as he once more enclosed my arms, and&lt;br /&gt;rendered me almost helpless.&lt;br /&gt;"Boys, downstairs, lamps full of oil!" I said. “Flavius!”&lt;br /&gt;The creature hugged me as if he were a giant snake. I could scarce breathe.&lt;br /&gt;"We can't go downstairs!” one of the boys cried. “We’re not allowed," said the&lt;br /&gt;other.&lt;br /&gt;The creature laughed in my ear, a rich deep laugh. Not everyone is so bound to&lt;br /&gt;rebellion as you are,&lt;br /&gt;beautiful woman, outwitting your brother at the foot of the Temple steps.”&lt;br /&gt;It was shocking to hear this dear articulate voice coming from a body which&lt;br /&gt;seemed burnt beyond all hope of life. I watched the blackened fingers moving&lt;br /&gt;over my own. I felt the touch of something cold on my neck. Then I felt the&lt;br /&gt;punctures. His fangs.&lt;br /&gt;“No!" I cried. I thrashed back and forth in his grip, then threw all of my&lt;br /&gt;weight against him so that he almost toppled again but didn’t fall.&lt;br /&gt;“Stop it, bitch, or I’ll kill you now.”&lt;br /&gt;“Why don't you?” I demanded.&lt;br /&gt;I twisted to see his face. It was like that of a long-dead corpse dried in the&lt;br /&gt;desert, burnt black with a spine of a nose, and arched lips that seemed quite&lt;br /&gt;unable to dose over white teeth and the two fangs he bared now as he looked at&lt;br /&gt;me.&lt;br /&gt;His eyes were full of blood, as Marius’s eyes had been. His hair was a fine&lt;br /&gt;black mop, very thick, fresh and dean, as though it had sprung from his body,&lt;br /&gt;renewing itself like magic. “Yes," he said confidently. “That is just what&lt;br /&gt;happened. And very soon I will have the blood I need to renew all of me! I won’t&lt;br /&gt;be this hideous monster you see. I’ll be what I was before those Egyptian fools&lt;br /&gt;put her in the sun!"&lt;br /&gt;“Hmmm, so she kept her promise,” I said. "She walked into the rays of Amon Ra so&lt;br /&gt;you would all&lt;br /&gt;burn up.”&lt;br /&gt;“What do you know of it? She hasn’t moved or spoken in a thousand years. I was&lt;br /&gt;that old when they removed the stones that enclosed her. She couldn't have&lt;br /&gt;walked into the sun. She is a great sacred vial of blood, an enthroned source of&lt;br /&gt;power, that’s all, and I will have that blood, which your Marius has stolen out&lt;br /&gt;of Egypt.”&lt;br /&gt;I pondered, searching desperately for a means to free myself.&lt;br /&gt;“You came to me as a gift,” said the burnt one. “You were all I needed to take&lt;br /&gt;on Marius! He wears his affections and weakness for you like bright silk&lt;br /&gt;garments for me to see!"&lt;br /&gt;"I see,” I said.&lt;br /&gt;“No, you don't.” he said. My head was pulled back by my hair. I screamed in&lt;br /&gt;annoyance.&lt;br /&gt;His sharp teeth went into my neck. A series of heated wires threaded me through&lt;br /&gt;and through.&lt;br /&gt;I swooned. An ecstasy rendered me motionless. I tried to resist, but I saw&lt;br /&gt;visions. I saw him in his glory, a golden man of an Eastern land, in a Temple of&lt;br /&gt;skulls. He was dressed in bright green silk breeches with an ornamented band&lt;br /&gt;around his forehead. Face delicate of nose and mouth. Then I saw him, without&lt;br /&gt;explanation, burst into flames that sent his slaves screaming. He twisted and&lt;br /&gt;turned in these flames, not dying but suffering exquisitely.&lt;br /&gt;My head was swimming, and I was weakening. My blood flowed from all parts of my&lt;br /&gt;body into his wretched form. I thought of my Father, of my Father saying, "Live,&lt;br /&gt;Lydia!” I wrenched my neck away from him and turned, poking him hard with my&lt;br /&gt;shoulder, and then pushed him with two hands so that he slid backwards on the&lt;br /&gt;floor. I brought my knee up against him. Nothing could get him off me!&lt;br /&gt;I tried to reach for my dagger, but I was too dizzy, and besides, I didn’t have&lt;br /&gt;my dagger. My only chance lay with the burning oil in the lamps at the foot of&lt;br /&gt;the stairs. I turned, reeling, and the monster caught me again with both hands&lt;br /&gt;by my long hair. He yanked me bad«&lt;br /&gt;"You demon!” I said. His strength had worn me out. He tightened his grip slowly.&lt;br /&gt;I knew that soon my arms would break.&lt;br /&gt;“Ah," he said, twisting free of me, and holding tight as ever. “My purpose is&lt;br /&gt;served.“&lt;br /&gt;A brighter light suddenly filled up the stairway.&lt;br /&gt;A torch was placed at the foot of the steps. Then Marius stepped into view. He&lt;br /&gt;appeared utterly calm and he appeared to be looking past me into the eyes of my&lt;br /&gt;captor.&lt;br /&gt;"And what will you do now, Akbar?” Marius asked. “Hurt her, violate her but one&lt;br /&gt;more time, and I shall&lt;br /&gt;kill you. Kill her, and you will die in agony. Let her go and you can run.”&lt;br /&gt;He mounted the steps one by one.&lt;br /&gt;“You underestimate me," said the burnt thing, "you arrogant Roman bumbler, you&lt;br /&gt;think I don’t know you&lt;br /&gt;keep the Queen and the King, that you stole them out of Egypt? It is known. The&lt;br /&gt;word is spread through&lt;br /&gt;the world, through the Northern woods, through the wild lands, through the lands&lt;br /&gt;of which you know&lt;br /&gt;nothing. You killed the Elder who guarded the King and the Queen and stole them!&lt;br /&gt;The King and Queen have not moved or spoken in a thousand years. You took our&lt;br /&gt;Queen from Egypt. You think you are a Roman Emperor? You think she is a Queen&lt;br /&gt;you can take captive, like Cleopatra! Cleopatra was a Greek whore. This is our&lt;br /&gt;Isis, our Akasha! You blaspheming fool. Now let me into Akasha’s presence. Stand&lt;br /&gt;against me, and this woman, the only mortal whom you truly love, dies.”&lt;br /&gt;Marius came up step by step towards us.&lt;br /&gt;"Akbar, did your informants tell you that it was the Elder in Egypt, her long&lt;br /&gt;keeper himself, who left the Royal Pair to stand in the sun'?" asked Marius. He&lt;br /&gt;took another step upward. “Did they tell you that it was the Elder that caused&lt;br /&gt;the sun to strike them, the fire which destroyed hundreds of us, and spared the&lt;br /&gt;oldest only so they could live in agony as you do?”&lt;br /&gt;Marius made a quick gesture. I felt the fangs deep in my neck. I couldn’t get&lt;br /&gt;away. Again, I saw this creature in his former splendor, taunting me with his&lt;br /&gt;beauty, his jeweled feet as he danced, surrounded by painted women.&lt;br /&gt;I heard Marius right beside me, but I couldn’t make out the words.&lt;br /&gt;The folly of it all went through my mind. I had led this creature to Marius, but&lt;br /&gt;was that what the Mother wanted? Akasha, that was the ancient name written on&lt;br /&gt;the bodies dumped on the steps of the Temple. I knew her name. I knew it in the&lt;br /&gt;dreams. I was losing consciousness; "Marius," I called out with all my strength.&lt;br /&gt;My head fell forward, free of the fangs. I fought this total captivating&lt;br /&gt;weakness. I deliberately pictured the Emperor Augustus receiving us on his&lt;br /&gt;deathbed. “I shall not see the end of this comedy,” I whispered.&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, yes, you shall.” It was Marius’s calm voice right near us. I opened my&lt;br /&gt;eyes. "Akbar, don't risk it again, you’ve shown your determination."&lt;br /&gt;"Don't reach for me again, Marius,” said the burnt creature. “My teeth caress&lt;br /&gt;her neck. But one more drop and her heart is silent.”&lt;br /&gt;The rich dark of night brightened the torch below. That was all I could see. The&lt;br /&gt;torch. “Akasha,” I whispered.&lt;br /&gt;The burnt thing took a deep breath, his chest heaving against me. “Her blood is&lt;br /&gt;beautiful,” he said. He kissed my cheek with the parched burnt lips. I closed my&lt;br /&gt;eyes. It was becoming harder and harder for me to breathe. I couldn't open my&lt;br /&gt;eyes.&lt;br /&gt;He went on talking.&lt;br /&gt;“You see, I have no fear to take her into death with me, Marius, for if I must&lt;br /&gt;die by your hand, why not with her as my consort?”&lt;br /&gt;These words were distant, echoing.&lt;br /&gt;“Pick her up in your arms,” said Marius. He was very dose to us. “And carry her&lt;br /&gt;gently, as if she were your only beloved child, and come down with me into the&lt;br /&gt;Shrine. Come and see the Mother. Kneel before Akasha and see what she will&lt;br /&gt;allow!”&lt;br /&gt;I swooned again, but I heard the creature laugh. He did lift me now, under the&lt;br /&gt;knees, and my head fell back We went down the steps.&lt;br /&gt;“Marius,” I said, “he’s weak You can kill him.” My face fell against the chest&lt;br /&gt;of the burnt one as we descended. I could feel the bones of his chest. "Really,&lt;br /&gt;very weak,” I said, scarcely able to remain conscious. Akasha, yes, her true&lt;br /&gt;name.&lt;br /&gt;“Carefully, my friend,” said Marius. “She dies and I destroy you. You’ve almost&lt;br /&gt;overplayed your hand. She narrows your chances with every labored breath.&lt;br /&gt;Pandora, be silent, please. Akbar is a great blood drinker, a great god."&lt;br /&gt;I felt a cold firm hand clasp mine.&lt;br /&gt;We had reached the lower floor. I tried to lift my head. I saw rows of lamps,&lt;br /&gt;splendid wall paintings hammered with gold, a ceiling veiled in gold.&lt;br /&gt;Two great stone doors were opened. A chapel lay within, a chapel full of dense&lt;br /&gt;fluttering devotional light and the overpowering scent of lilies.&lt;br /&gt;The blood drinker who held me let out a cry. “Mother Isis,” he said piteously.&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, Akasha.”&lt;br /&gt;He released me, setting me down on my feet, as Marius at once took hold of me,&lt;br /&gt;and the blistered and damaged one rushed towards the altar.&lt;br /&gt;I stared, amazed. But I was dying. I couldn’t breathe. I was falling to the&lt;br /&gt;floor. I tried to swallow air but I could not. I could not stand without Marius.&lt;br /&gt;But oh, to leave the Earth and all its miseries with such a vision:&lt;br /&gt;There they sat, The Great Goddess Isis and the King Osiris, or so it seemed,&lt;br /&gt;bronzed in skin, not white like the poor captive Queen in my dreams, but&lt;br /&gt;perfectly arrayed in garments of spun gold pleated and sewn in the fixed&lt;br /&gt;Egyptian style. Their black hair was long, plaited, real. The paint on their&lt;br /&gt;faces was fresh, the dark eyelining and mascara, the reddened lips.&lt;br /&gt;She wore no crown of the horns and sun disk Her collar of gold and jewels was&lt;br /&gt;superb, shimmering and alive in my eyes.&lt;br /&gt;“I must get the crown, restore the crown!” I said aloud, hearing this voice come&lt;br /&gt;from me as if it had been born elsewhere to instruct me. My eyes dosed.&lt;br /&gt;The black thing knelt before the Queen.&lt;br /&gt;I couldn’t see dearly. I felt Marius’s arms, and then a gush of hot blood come&lt;br /&gt;into my mouth. “No, Marius, protect her!” I tried to speak. My words were washed&lt;br /&gt;away in this infusion of blood. "Protect the Mother!” Again it came filling my&lt;br /&gt;mouth so that I had to swallow. Immediately I felt the strength, the power of&lt;br /&gt;this blood, infinitely stronger than the pull of Akbar. The blood rushed like so&lt;br /&gt;many rivers to the sea, through my body. It would not be stopped. Another gush&lt;br /&gt;followed, as if a giant storm had driven the river even faster into its delta,&lt;br /&gt;its broken and random streams seeking every morsel of flesh.&lt;br /&gt;A wide and wondrous world opened and would have welcomed me, sunlight in the&lt;br /&gt;deep forest, but I wouldn’t see it. I broke free. “The Queen, save her from&lt;br /&gt;him!" I whispered. Did the blood drip from my lips? No, it was gone inside me.&lt;br /&gt;Marius wouldn’t listen to me. Again a bloody wound was pressed to my mouth, and&lt;br /&gt;the blood was driven ever faster. I felt the air fill my lungs. I could feel the&lt;br /&gt;length of my own body, sturdy, standing on its own. The blood brightened inside&lt;br /&gt;me like light, as though it had enflamed my heart. I opened my eyes. I was a&lt;br /&gt;pillar. I saw Marius’s face, his golden eyelashes, his deep blue eyes. His long&lt;br /&gt;hair parted in the middle fell to his shoulders. He was ageless, a god.&lt;br /&gt;"Protect her!” I cried. I turned and pointed.&lt;br /&gt;A veil was lifted that had all my life hung between me and all things; now in&lt;br /&gt;their true color and shape, they gave forth their deliberate purpose: the Queen&lt;br /&gt;stared forward, immobile as the King. Life could not have imitated such&lt;br /&gt;serenity, such utter paralysis. I heard water dropping from the flowers. Tiny&lt;br /&gt;drops striking the marble floor, the fall of a single leaf. I turned and saw it,&lt;br /&gt;curled and rocking on the stones, this tiny leaf. I heard the breeze move under&lt;br /&gt;the golden canopied ceiling. And the lamps had tongues of flame to sing.&lt;br /&gt;The world was a woven song, a tapestry of song. The multicolored Mosiacs&lt;br /&gt;gleamed, then lost all form, then even pattern. The walls dissolved into clouds&lt;br /&gt;of colored mist which welcomed us, through which we could roam forever.&lt;br /&gt;And there she sat, The Queen of Heaven, reigning over all in supreme and&lt;br /&gt;unperturbed stillness.&lt;br /&gt;All the yearning of my childish heart was fulfilled. "She lives, she is real,&lt;br /&gt;she reigns over Earth and Heaven.”&lt;br /&gt;The King and the Queen. They didn’t stir. Their eyes beheld nothing. They did&lt;br /&gt;not look at us. They did not look at the burnt thing as he drew doser and doser&lt;br /&gt;to their throne.&lt;br /&gt;The arms of the Royal Pair were covered in many inscribed and intricate&lt;br /&gt;bracelets. Their hands rested on their thighs. It was the manner of many an&lt;br /&gt;Egyptian statue. But there never has been a statue to equal either of them.&lt;br /&gt;“The crown, she would have her crown," I said. With astonishing vigor I walked&lt;br /&gt;forward towards her.&lt;br /&gt;Marius took my hand. Keenly, he watched the progress of the burnt one.&lt;br /&gt;“She was before all such crowns,” Marius said, “they do not mean anything to&lt;br /&gt;her.”&lt;br /&gt;The thought itself burst with the sweetness of a grape on my tongue. Of course&lt;br /&gt;she was there before. In my dreams, she had had no crown. She was safe. Marius&lt;br /&gt;kept her safe.&lt;br /&gt;“My Queen,” said Marius from behind me. “You have a supplicant. It is Akbar from&lt;br /&gt;the East. He would drink the royal blood. What is your will, Mother?”&lt;br /&gt;His voice was so tranquil! He had no fears.&lt;br /&gt;“Mother Isis, let me drink!” cried this burnt creature. He stood up, threw up&lt;br /&gt;his arms and created another dancing vision of his former self. He wore human&lt;br /&gt;skulls hanging from his belt. He wore a necklace of blackened human fingers!&lt;br /&gt;Another of blackened human ears! It was grisly and revolting, yet he seemed to&lt;br /&gt;think it seductive and overpowering. At once the image left him. The god from&lt;br /&gt;the faraway land was on his knees.&lt;br /&gt;"I am your servant and always was! I slew only the evildoer, as you commanded. I&lt;br /&gt;never abandoned your true worship."&lt;br /&gt;How fragile and insignificant seemed this pleading one, so revolting, so easy to&lt;br /&gt;clear away now from her presence. I looked at the King Osiris, as remote and&lt;br /&gt;indifferent as the Queen.&lt;br /&gt;“Marius,” I said, “the corn for Osiris; doesn’t he want the corn? He’s the god&lt;br /&gt;of the corn." I was filled with visions of our processions in Rome, of people&lt;br /&gt;singing and bearing the offerings.&lt;br /&gt;“No, he doesn't want the corn,” said Marius. He laid his hand on my shoulder.&lt;br /&gt;“They are true, they are real." I cried out. "It is all real. Everything is&lt;br /&gt;changed. Everything is redeemed.”&lt;br /&gt;The burnt thing turned and glared at me. But I was quite beyond all reason. He&lt;br /&gt;turned back to the Queen and reached out for her foot.&lt;br /&gt;How her toenails flashed in the light with the golden flesh beneath them. But&lt;br /&gt;she was stone-still, as was the crownless King, without seeming judgment or&lt;br /&gt;power.&lt;br /&gt;The creature suddenly sprang up and tried to seize the Queen by the neck!&lt;br /&gt;I screamed.&lt;br /&gt;“Shameless, despicable."&lt;br /&gt;Swiftly the frozen right arm of the Queen rose, her hand surrounding the burnt&lt;br /&gt;thing‘s skull and crushing it, the blood gushing down her as the monster gave&lt;br /&gt;his last fractured cry for mercy. She caught his body as it dropped over her&lt;br /&gt;waist. She hurled it in the air, and all its limbs broke loose from it, crashing&lt;br /&gt;to the floor like so much timber.&lt;br /&gt;A gusting wind caught each remnant and gathered them all in one as a lamp fell&lt;br /&gt;from its three-legged stand to spill its burning oil on the remains.&lt;br /&gt;“The heart, look,” I said. “I can see its heart. The heartbeats.”&lt;br /&gt;But the fire quickly consumed the heart, consumed the flexing fingers and the&lt;br /&gt;writhing toes. There was a great stirring, a dance in the fire of bones, bones&lt;br /&gt;whirling in the flames, and then the bones blackened, thinned, snapped to&lt;br /&gt;pieces, became fragments; all of this thing was reduced at last to smoking&lt;br /&gt;cinders, crisping and skittering on the floor.&lt;br /&gt;Then came the breeze again, full of the breath of the garden, lifting these&lt;br /&gt;cinders and carrying them away, like so many fragile tiny black insects, into&lt;br /&gt;the shadows of the antechamber.&lt;br /&gt;I was spellbound.&lt;br /&gt;The Queen was as before, her hand in its old place. She and the King stared at&lt;br /&gt;nothing, as if nothing had taken place. Only the wretched stain on her gown bore&lt;br /&gt;witness.&lt;br /&gt;Their eyes took no heed of Marius or of me.&lt;br /&gt;Then there was only quiet in the chapel. Only sweet perfumed quiet. Golden&lt;br /&gt;light. I breathed deeply. I could hear the oil in the lamps turned to flame. The&lt;br /&gt;Mosiacs were peopled with finely made worshipers. I could see the slow minute&lt;br /&gt;beginnings of decay of the various flowers, and it seemed but another strain of&lt;br /&gt;the same song that expressed their growth, their browning edges but another&lt;br /&gt;color in no contradiction to their brilliant colors.&lt;br /&gt;“Forgive me, Akasha,” Marius said softly, “that I let him come so dose, I was&lt;br /&gt;not wise."&lt;br /&gt;I cried. Great gushing tears came from me.&lt;br /&gt;“You summoned me,” I said to the Queen through my tears. “You called me here! I&lt;br /&gt;will do all you want of me.”&lt;br /&gt;Slowly her right arm rose; it rose from her thigh and extended itself and her&lt;br /&gt;hand very gently curved in the beckoning gesture of the dream, but there was no&lt;br /&gt;smile, no change in her frozen face.&lt;br /&gt;I felt something invisible and irresistible wrap itself around me. It came from&lt;br /&gt;her outstretching welcoming arm. It was sweet and soft and caressing. It made a&lt;br /&gt;flush of pleasure through all my limbs and my face.&lt;br /&gt;I moved forward, wound up in its will.&lt;br /&gt;“I beg you, Akasha.” Marius said softly. "I beg you under the name of Inanna,&lt;br /&gt;under the name of Isis, under the name of all goddesses, don’t hurt her!”&lt;br /&gt;Marius simply didn’t understand! Marius had never known her worship! I knew. I&lt;br /&gt;knew that her blood drinker children had meant to be judges of the evildoer, and&lt;br /&gt;drink only from the condemned, according to her laws. I saw the god of the dark&lt;br /&gt;cave, whom I'd seen in my vision. I understood all.&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to tell Marius. But I couldn't. Not now. The world was reborn, all&lt;br /&gt;systems built upon skepticism or selfishness were as fragile as spiderwebs and&lt;br /&gt;meant to be swept away. My own moments of despair had been nothing more than&lt;br /&gt;detours into an unholy and self-centered blackness.&lt;br /&gt;"The Queen of Heaven,” I whispered. I knew I was speaking in the ancient tongue.&lt;br /&gt;A prayer came to my lips.&lt;br /&gt;"And Amon Ra, the Sun God, for all his power, shall never conquer the King of&lt;br /&gt;the Dead or his bride, for she is the ruler of the starry heavens, of the moon,&lt;br /&gt;of those who would bring the sacrifice of the evildoer. Cursed be those who&lt;br /&gt;misuse this magic. Cursed be those who seek to steal it!”&lt;br /&gt;I felt myself, a human, held together by the intricate threads of blood which&lt;br /&gt;Marius had given me. I felt the design of its support. It had no weight, my&lt;br /&gt;body.&lt;br /&gt;I was lifted towards her. Her arm came around me and pulled my hair back from my&lt;br /&gt;face. I put out my arms to embrace her neck because I could do nothing else. We&lt;br /&gt;were too dose for any other possible sign of love.&lt;br /&gt;I felt the soft silk of her real plaited hair, and the coldness and firmness of&lt;br /&gt;her shoulders, her arm. Yet she did not look at me. She was a petrified thing.&lt;br /&gt;Could she look at me? Did she choose to remain silent, staring forward? Did some&lt;br /&gt;evil spell hold her helpless, a spell from which a thousand hymns might waken&lt;br /&gt;her?&lt;br /&gt;In my delirium I saw the words engraved in gold pieces among the jewels of her&lt;br /&gt;collar: “Bring to me the evildoer and I shall drink his blood.”&lt;br /&gt;It seemed I was in the desert and the necklace was tumbling over and over in the&lt;br /&gt;sand, in the wind, rather like the body of the burnt one had tumbled. Fallen,&lt;br /&gt;lost, to be remade.&lt;br /&gt;I felt my head drawn to her neck She had opened her fingers over my hair. She&lt;br /&gt;directed it, that my lips should feel this skin.&lt;br /&gt;“It’s what you want, isn’t it?” I asked. But my words seemed remote from me, a&lt;br /&gt;pathetic expression of the fullness of my soul. “That I am to be your daughter!”&lt;br /&gt;She tipped her head slightly, away from me, so that I saw her neck I saw the&lt;br /&gt;vein displayed, the vein from which she wanted me to drink&lt;br /&gt;Her finger rose gently through my hair, never pulling it or hurting it, merely&lt;br /&gt;embracing my head, sending rampant ecstasy through me, and urging my head gently&lt;br /&gt;down so that my lips could no longer avoid her shimmering skin.&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, my adored Queen,” I whispered. I had never known such certainty, such&lt;br /&gt;ecstasy without limits or mundane cause. I had never known such bursting,&lt;br /&gt;triumphant faith as my faith in her.&lt;br /&gt;I opened my mouth. Nothing human could bite through this hard flesh! Yet it&lt;br /&gt;gave, as though it were thin, and the blood pumped into me, "the Fount.” I heard&lt;br /&gt;her heart driving it, a deafening force that vibrated in the drums of my ears.&lt;br /&gt;This was not blood. This was nectar. This was all that any created being could&lt;br /&gt;ever desire.&lt;br /&gt;9&lt;br /&gt;With the nectar flowing into me, there came another realm. Her ringing laughter&lt;br /&gt;filled the corridor; she ran ahead of me, girlish, feline, unencumbered by&lt;br /&gt;grandeur. She beckoned for me to follow. Out under the stars, Marius sat alone&lt;br /&gt;in his soft shapeless garden. She pointed to him. I saw Marius rise and take me&lt;br /&gt;in&lt;br /&gt;his arms. His long hair was such a fine adornment. I saw what she wanted. It was&lt;br /&gt;Marius I kissed in this&lt;br /&gt;vision as I drank from her; it was Marius with whom I danced.&lt;br /&gt;A shower of flower petals descended upon us as upon a bridal couple in Rome, and&lt;br /&gt;Marius held my arm as though we had just been wed, and all around us people&lt;br /&gt;sang. There was a flawless happiness, a happiness so keen that perhaps there are&lt;br /&gt;those born who never even have the capacity for it.&lt;br /&gt;She stood atop a broad black altar of diorite.&lt;br /&gt;It was night. This was an enclosed place, filled with people, but it was dark&lt;br /&gt;and cool with the sandy wind off the valley floor, and she looked down at the&lt;br /&gt;one they offered up to her. He was a man, his eyes closed, his hands were bound.&lt;br /&gt;He didn’t struggle.&lt;br /&gt;She showed her teeth; a gasp rose from the worshipers who filled the place, and&lt;br /&gt;then she took the man by the throat and drank his blood. When she had finished,&lt;br /&gt;she let him fall and she held up her arms.&lt;br /&gt;"All things are cleansed in me!” she cried out. Once again the petals fell,&lt;br /&gt;petals of all colors, and peacock feathers waved about us, and branches of palm,&lt;br /&gt;and there was singing in great lusty bursts, and the sound of a riotous drum,&lt;br /&gt;and she smiled looking down from where she stood, her face remarkably flushed&lt;br /&gt;and mobile and human, her black-painted eyes sweeping over her worshipers.&lt;br /&gt;All began to dance, save she, who watched, and then her eyes rose slowly and she&lt;br /&gt;looked over their heads, out the high rectangular windows of this place, at the&lt;br /&gt;twinkling firmament. Pipes played. The dance had become a frenzy.&lt;br /&gt;A weary and secretive darkness crept into her face, a distraction, as though her&lt;br /&gt;soul had traveled out of doors towards Heaven, and then she looked sadly down.&lt;br /&gt;She looked lost. Anger overcame her.&lt;br /&gt;Then she cried out in a deafening voice, “The rogue blood drinker!" The crowd&lt;br /&gt;fell silent. “Bring him to me.”&lt;br /&gt;The crowd parted to let this struggling furious god be forced to her altar.&lt;br /&gt;“You dare judge me!” he cried. He was Babylonian, with full long curly locks and&lt;br /&gt;beard and mustache. It took ten mortals to hold him.&lt;br /&gt;“Into the burning place, in the mountains, in the sun, in the strongest&lt;br /&gt;fetters!” she cried. He was dragged away.&lt;br /&gt;Once again she looked up. The stars grew big and age-old patterns were dear. We&lt;br /&gt;floated under the stars.&lt;br /&gt;A boy in a delicate gilded chair argued with those around him. The men were old,&lt;br /&gt;half-invisible in the darkness. The lamp shone on the boy's face. We stood in&lt;br /&gt;the door. The boy was &amp;amp;ail, his little limbs like sticks.&lt;br /&gt;“And you say,” said the incredulous boy, “that these blood drinkers are&lt;br /&gt;worshiped in the hills!”&lt;br /&gt;I knew he was the Pharaoh by the sacred lock of hair that grew from his bald&lt;br /&gt;head, by the manner in which the others waited upon him. He looked up in horror&lt;br /&gt;as she approached. His guardians fled.&lt;br /&gt;‘Yes," she said, “and you will do nothing to stop it."&lt;br /&gt;She lifted him, this small fragile boy, and tore at his throat as an animal&lt;br /&gt;might do it, letting the blood flood from the fatal wound. "Little King,” she&lt;br /&gt;said. “Little Kingdom.”&lt;br /&gt;The vision ended,&lt;br /&gt;Her cold white skin was dosed beneath my lips. I kissed her now. I no longer&lt;br /&gt;drank.&lt;br /&gt;I felt my own form, felt myself fall back over her arm, felt myself slipping out&lt;br /&gt;of her embrace.&lt;br /&gt;In the dim radiance, her profile remained as it had before, silent and without&lt;br /&gt;feeling. Stark, a face without a blemish or a line. I sank back into Marius’s&lt;br /&gt;arms. Her arm and hand returned to their former rigid position.&lt;br /&gt;Everything was brilliantly clear, the motionless King and Queen, the artful&lt;br /&gt;figures fixed in lapis lazuli in the gold mosaics.&lt;br /&gt;I felt a sharp pain in me, in the heart, in the womb, as if someone had stabbed&lt;br /&gt;me. “Marius!” I cried out.&lt;br /&gt;He picked me up and carried me from the chamber,&lt;br /&gt;"No, I want to kneel at her feet,” I said. The pain took the breath out of me. I&lt;br /&gt;tried not to scream from this pain. Oh, the world had just been reborn. And now&lt;br /&gt;this agony.&lt;br /&gt;He set me down on the high grass, letting it be crushed under me. A flood of&lt;br /&gt;sour human fluid came out of my womb, even out of my mouth. I saw flowers right&lt;br /&gt;near me. I saw the friendly Heavens, vivid as in my vision. The pain was&lt;br /&gt;unspeakable.&lt;br /&gt;I knew now why he had removed me from the Shrine.&lt;br /&gt;I wiped at my cheek. I couldn’t bear this filth. The pain devoured me. I&lt;br /&gt;struggled to see again what she had revealed to me, remember what she said, but&lt;br /&gt;there was too much obstruction in this pain.&lt;br /&gt;“Marius!” I cried.&lt;br /&gt;He covered me and kissed my cheek. "Drink from me,” he said, “drink until the&lt;br /&gt;pain goes away. It's only the body dying, drink Pandora, you are immortal."&lt;br /&gt;“Fill me, take me,” I said. I reached down between his legs.&lt;br /&gt;"It doesn’t matter now.”&lt;br /&gt;But it was hard, this organ I sought, the organ forever lost to the god Osiris.&lt;br /&gt;I guided it, hard and cold as it was, into my body. Then I drank and drank, and&lt;br /&gt;when I felt his teeth again on my neck, when he began to draw from me the new&lt;br /&gt;mixture that filled my veins, it was sweet suckling, and I knew him and loved&lt;br /&gt;him and knew all his secrets in one flash which meant nothing.&lt;br /&gt;He was right. The lower organs meant nothing. He fed on me. I fed on him. This&lt;br /&gt;was our marriage. All around us, the grass was waving softly in the breeze, a&lt;br /&gt;majestic conjugal bed, and the smell of the green flooded me.&lt;br /&gt;The pain was gone. I flung out my arm and felt the softness of flowers.&lt;br /&gt;He tore off' my fouled dress and lifted me. He carried me into the pool where&lt;br /&gt;the marble Venus stood forever with back bent, and one foot raised above the&lt;br /&gt;cool water.&lt;br /&gt;“Pandora!” he whispered.&lt;br /&gt;The boys stood at his side, offering him pitchers.&lt;br /&gt;He dipped a pitcher and poured the water over me. I felt beneath my feet the&lt;br /&gt;tile at the bottom of the pool as the water ran down my skin. I had never known&lt;br /&gt;such sensation! Another pitcherful washed over me, deliciously. I feared for one&lt;br /&gt;instant the pain would return, but no, it was gone.&lt;br /&gt;"I love you with all my heart,” I said. ‘M my love belongs to them and to you,&lt;br /&gt;Marius. Marius, I can see in the darkness, I can see in the deep dark beneath&lt;br /&gt;the trees.”&lt;br /&gt;Marius held me. The boys slowly bathed us both, dipping their pitchers and&lt;br /&gt;pouring the silvery water over us.&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, to have you with me," Marius said, “to have you here; not to be alone, but&lt;br /&gt;to be with you, my beauty, you of all souls! You.” He stood back, and I gloried&lt;br /&gt;in him, drenched as I was, reached to touch his long wild foreign hair. He&lt;br /&gt;sparkled all over with droplets.&lt;br /&gt;“Yes,” I said. "It was exactly what she wanted.’*&lt;br /&gt;His face stiffened. He scowled. He stared at me. Something had changed&lt;br /&gt;altogether, and for the worse. I could feel it.&lt;br /&gt;"What?” he asked.&lt;br /&gt;“It is what she wanted. She made it plain to me in the visions. She wanted me to&lt;br /&gt;be with you, so you wouldn’t be alone.”&lt;br /&gt;He stood back. Was this anger'?&lt;br /&gt;“Marius, what is the matter with you? Can’t you see what she’s done?”&lt;br /&gt;He stepped back again, away from me.&lt;br /&gt;“You didn’t realize that’s what was happening?" I asked.&lt;br /&gt;The boys thrust forth towels. Marius took one and wiped his face and his hair.&lt;br /&gt;I did the same.&lt;br /&gt;He was furious. He shook with anger.&lt;br /&gt;This was a moment of mingled and inexplicable beauty and horror' – his white&lt;br /&gt;body there, the shimmering pool, the lights falling gracefully from the open&lt;br /&gt;doors of the house, and above, the stars, her stars. And Marius angry and&lt;br /&gt;bristling, his eyes full of outrage.&lt;br /&gt;I looked at him.&lt;br /&gt;“I am her Priestess now,” I said. “I’m to restore her worship. That’s what she&lt;br /&gt;wants. But she brought me also for you, because you were alone,” I said.&lt;br /&gt;“Marius, I saw all this. I saw our own wedding in Rome, as if it were the old&lt;br /&gt;days and our families were with us. I saw her worshipers.”&lt;br /&gt;He was plainly horrified.&lt;br /&gt;I didn't want to see this. Surely I was misunderstanding him.&lt;br /&gt;I stepped up on the grass. I let the boys dry my body. I looked up at the stars.&lt;br /&gt;The house with all its warm lamps seemed crude and fragile, a bumbled attempt to&lt;br /&gt;make an order of things, which could not compare to the making of one complete&lt;br /&gt;flower.&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, how spectacular is the simple night,” I said. “It seems an insult to the&lt;br /&gt;night to speak of purpose and intent, when this common moment is so brimming&lt;br /&gt;full of blessed design and tranquillity. All things follow their course."&lt;br /&gt;I stood back and spun around, letting the water fly from me. I was so strong. No&lt;br /&gt;dizziness overcame when I stopped. I had a sense of infinite power.&lt;br /&gt;One of the boys held out a tunic for me. It was a man’s, but as I’ve said so&lt;br /&gt;often here, Roman clothes are very simple. It was just a short tunic. I put it&lt;br /&gt;on and let him tie the sash around my waist. I smiled at him. He trembled and&lt;br /&gt;stepped back from me.&lt;br /&gt;“Dry my hair,” I told him. Ah, such sensations.&lt;br /&gt;Slowly I looked up. Marius too was dried and dressed. He was still looking at me&lt;br /&gt;with violent protest, and downright indignation.&lt;br /&gt;"Someone has to go in,” I said, “to change her golden gown. That blasphemer, he&lt;br /&gt;left her bloody.”&lt;br /&gt;“I will do that!” Marius said in plain anger.&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, so it comes to this,” I said. I looked around me, seduced by beauty to&lt;br /&gt;forget his altogether, to come back to him at some later hour after I had roamed&lt;br /&gt;beneath the olive trees and consorted with the constellations.&lt;br /&gt;But his anger hurt me. The hurt was strange, and deep, without the various&lt;br /&gt;stages mortal flesh and mind command of pain.&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, isn’t it splendid.” I said. “I learn that the goddess reigns, that she is&lt;br /&gt;real, that she has made all things! That the world is not just a giant&lt;br /&gt;graveyard! But I learn this as I find myself in an arranged marriage! And behold&lt;br /&gt;the groom! How he nurses his own temper.”&lt;br /&gt;He sighed and bowed his head. Was I to see him cry again, this flawless familiar&lt;br /&gt;and beloved god among crushed flowers?&lt;br /&gt;He looked up. “Pandora,” he said. “She’s not a goddess. She didn’t make the&lt;br /&gt;world.”&lt;br /&gt;“How dare you say this!”&lt;br /&gt;“I have to say it! I would have died for the truth when I was alive and will die&lt;br /&gt;for it now. But she will not let this happen. She needs me and she needs you to&lt;br /&gt;make me happy!”&lt;br /&gt;“So very well!” I threw my hands. “I am happy to do it. And we will restore her&lt;br /&gt;worship.”&lt;br /&gt;“We will not!” he said. “How can you even think of such a thing.”&lt;br /&gt;"Marius, I want to sing it from the tops of mountains; I want to tell the world&lt;br /&gt;that this miracle exists. I want to run through the streets singing. We are to&lt;br /&gt;restore her to her throne in a great Temple in the very middle of Antioch!”&lt;br /&gt;“You’re talking madness!” he shouted.&lt;br /&gt;The boys had run away.&lt;br /&gt;“Marius, have you stopped up your ears to her commands? We are to hunt down and&lt;br /&gt;kill her renegade gods and see that new gods are born from her, gods who look&lt;br /&gt;into souls, gods who seek justice, not lies, gods who are not fantastical,&lt;br /&gt;lustful idiots or the drunken whimsical creatures of the Northern sky who hurl&lt;br /&gt;thunderbolts. Her worship is founded in the good, in the pure!"&lt;br /&gt;“No, no, no," he said. He stepped back as if that would make it all the more&lt;br /&gt;emphatic. “You’re talking rot!” he said. “Stupidity, rank superstition!”&lt;br /&gt;“I don’t believe you said those words!” I cried. “You are a monster!" I said.&lt;br /&gt;"She deserves her throne! So does the King, who sits beside her. They deserve&lt;br /&gt;their worshipers bringing flowers to them. Did you think you had the power to&lt;br /&gt;read minds for no good reason!” I came forward. “Do you remember when I first&lt;br /&gt;mocked you in the Temple? When I said you ought to station yourself at the&lt;br /&gt;courts and look into the minds of the accused? I had hit the mark in my&lt;br /&gt;ridicule!”&lt;br /&gt;“No.” he roared. “This is absolutely not true,” he said.&lt;br /&gt;He turned his back on me, rushing into the house.&lt;br /&gt;I followed him.&lt;br /&gt;He rushed down the stairway and into her sanctum, stopping short before her. She&lt;br /&gt;and her King sat as before. Not an eyelash moved. Only the flowers clung to life&lt;br /&gt;in the perfumed air.&lt;br /&gt;I looked down at my hands, so white! Could I die now? Would I live centuries&lt;br /&gt;like the burnt one?&lt;br /&gt;I studied their seemingly divine faces. They did not smile. They did not dream.&lt;br /&gt;They looked, and nothing more.&lt;br /&gt;I fell down on my knees.&lt;br /&gt;“Akasha,” I whispered. “May I call you this name? Tell me what you want."&lt;br /&gt;There was no change in her. None whatsoever.&lt;br /&gt;"Well, speak, Mother!” declared Marius, his voice thick with sadness. “Speak! Is&lt;br /&gt;it what you’ve always wanted?”&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly he dashed forward, mounted the two steps of her dais and pounded on her&lt;br /&gt;breasts with his fists.&lt;br /&gt;I was horrified.&lt;br /&gt;She didn’t move, she didn’t blink. His fist struck a hardness he could not&lt;br /&gt;budge. Only her hair, struck by his arm, gave a little sway.&lt;br /&gt;I ran to him and tried to pull him away.&lt;br /&gt;“Stop it, Marius, she’ll destroy you!”&lt;br /&gt;I was amazed at my strength. Surely it equalled his. But he allowed me to pull&lt;br /&gt;him back, his face flooded with tears.&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, what have I done!" he said staring at her. "Oh, Pandora, Pandora! What have&lt;br /&gt;I done! I’ve made another blood drinker when I swore that there would never,&lt;br /&gt;never be another made, not so long as I survived!”&lt;br /&gt;“Come upstairs," I said calmly. I glanced at the King and Queen. No sign of&lt;br /&gt;response or recognition. “It isn't proper, Marius, that we argue here in the&lt;br /&gt;Shrine. Come upstairs."&lt;br /&gt;He nodded.&lt;br /&gt;He let me lead him slowly out of the room. His head was bowed.&lt;br /&gt;“Your long barbarian hair is most becoming,” I said. “And I have eyes now to see&lt;br /&gt;you as never before. Our blood is intertwined as it might be in a child born to&lt;br /&gt;us."&lt;br /&gt;He wiped at his nose, and didn’t look at me.&lt;br /&gt;We walked into the large library.&lt;br /&gt;"Marius, is there nothing in me that fills your eye, nothing you find&lt;br /&gt;beautiful?”&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, yes, my dear, there is everything!" he said. “But for the love of Heaven,&lt;br /&gt;bring your wits with you into this! Don’t you see! Your life’s been stolen not&lt;br /&gt;for a sacred truth but for a degraded mystery! Reading minds doesn't make me any&lt;br /&gt;wiser than the next man! I kill to live! As she once did, thousands and&lt;br /&gt;thousands of years ago. Oh, and she knew she had to do this. She knew the time&lt;br /&gt;had come."&lt;br /&gt;“What time? What did she know?”&lt;br /&gt;I stared at him. I was gradually realizing that I could no longer read his&lt;br /&gt;thoughts, and surely he couldn't read mine. But the hovering boys, they were&lt;br /&gt;just open books in their fear, thinking themselves the servants of kindhearted&lt;br /&gt;but very loud-voiced demons.&lt;br /&gt;Marius sighed. “She did it because I had almost gained the courage to do what I&lt;br /&gt;had to do! To place them both and myself in the sun and finish forever what the&lt;br /&gt;Egyptian Elder had sought to do – rid the world of the King and Queen and all&lt;br /&gt;the fanged men and women who glut themselves on death! Oh, she is too clever.”&lt;br /&gt;“You really planned to do that?” I asked. "To immolate them and yourself?”&lt;br /&gt;He made a small sarcastic sound. "Yes, of course, I planned it. Next week, next&lt;br /&gt;month, next year, next decade, after another hundred years, maybe in two&lt;br /&gt;hundred, maybe after I’d read all the books in the world and seen all the&lt;br /&gt;places, maybe in five hundred years, maybe... maybe soon in my loneliness.”&lt;br /&gt;I was at first too stunned to speak.&lt;br /&gt;He smiled at me wisely and sadly. “Oh, but I cry like a child,” he said softly.&lt;br /&gt;“Where comes the confidence,” I asked, “to put an end so swiftly to such bold&lt;br /&gt;and complex evidence of divine magic!"&lt;br /&gt;"Magic!" he cursed.&lt;br /&gt;“I’d rather if you did not do this," I said. “I don’t mean the crying, I mean&lt;br /&gt;burning up the Mother and Father and..."&lt;br /&gt;“I’m sure you would!” he answered. "And do you think I could bear to do it&lt;br /&gt;against your will, subject you to the fire? You innocent desperate idiot of a&lt;br /&gt;woman! Restore her altars! Oh! Restore her worship! Oh! You are out of your&lt;br /&gt;mind!”&lt;br /&gt;“Idiot! You dare sling your insults at me! You think you’ve brought a slave into&lt;br /&gt;your household? You haven’t even brought a wife.”&lt;br /&gt;Yes. Our minds were locked now to each other, and later I would find out that it&lt;br /&gt;was because of our heavy exchange of blood. But all I knew then was that we had&lt;br /&gt;to content ourselves with words like mortal men and women.&lt;br /&gt;"I did not mean to use petty insults!" he said. He was stung.&lt;br /&gt;“Well, then sharpen your great male reason and your lofty elegant patrician mode&lt;br /&gt;of expression!” I said.&lt;br /&gt;We glowered at one another.&lt;br /&gt;“Yes." he said. “Reason," he said. He held up his finger. “You are the most&lt;br /&gt;clever woman I’ve ever known. And you listen to reason. I will explain and you&lt;br /&gt;will see. That is what must be done."&lt;br /&gt;“Yes, and you are hotheaded and sentimental and give way to tears again and&lt;br /&gt;again – and you pound upon the Queen herself like a child throwing a tantrum!”&lt;br /&gt;His face went red with immediate anger. It sealed his lips against his words.&lt;br /&gt;He turned and went away.&lt;br /&gt;“Do you cast me out?” I said. "Do you want me gone!” I shouted. “This is your&lt;br /&gt;house. Tell me now if you want me gone. I’ll go now!”&lt;br /&gt;He stopped. “No,” he said.&lt;br /&gt;He turned around and looked at me, shaken, and caught off guard. In a raw voice,&lt;br /&gt;he said, "Don't go, Pandora!” He blinked as if to dear his vision. “Don’t go.&lt;br /&gt;Please, don’t." And then he let fall a final whisper. "We have each other.”&lt;br /&gt;“And where do you go now, to get away from me?”&lt;br /&gt;"Only to change her dress," he said with a sad bitter smile. “To clean and&lt;br /&gt;recostume ‘such bold evidence of complex and divine magic.’ ”&lt;br /&gt;He disappeared.&lt;br /&gt;I turned to the violet outdoors. To the clouds stirred in a cauldron by the&lt;br /&gt;moon, to defy the darkness. To the big old trees that said, Mount our limbs, we&lt;br /&gt;will embrace you! To the scattered flowers everywhere that said, We are your&lt;br /&gt;bed. Lie down with us.&lt;br /&gt;And so the two-hundred-year brawl began.&lt;br /&gt;And it never really ended.&lt;br /&gt;10&lt;br /&gt;With my eyes still closed, I heard voices of the city, voices from nearby&lt;br /&gt;houses; I heard men talking as they passed on the road outside. I heard music&lt;br /&gt;coming from somewhere, and the laughter of women and children. When I&lt;br /&gt;concentrated I could understand what they said. I chose not to do this, and&lt;br /&gt;their voices melded with the breeze.&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, the state seemed unbearable. There seemed nothing to do but rush back&lt;br /&gt;to the chapel and kneel there and worship! These senses I had been given seemed&lt;br /&gt;fit for nothing else. If this was my destiny, then what was to become of me?&lt;br /&gt;Through it all, I heard a soul weeping in agony; it was an echo of my own, a&lt;br /&gt;soul broken from a course of great hope, who could scarce believe that such fine&lt;br /&gt;beginnings should end in terror!&lt;br /&gt;It was Flavius.&lt;br /&gt;I leapt into the old gnarled olive tree. It was as simple as taking a step. I&lt;br /&gt;stood among the branches, and then leapt to the next, and then to the top of the&lt;br /&gt;wall, encrusted with vine. I walked along the wall towards the gate.&lt;br /&gt;There he stood, his forehead pressed to the bars, both hands clutching at the&lt;br /&gt;iron. He bled from several slash marks on his cheek. He gnashed his teeth.&lt;br /&gt;“Flavius!" I said.&lt;br /&gt;He looked up with a start. "Lady Pandora!”&lt;br /&gt;Surely by the light of the moon, he saw the miracle wrought in me, whatever its&lt;br /&gt;cause. For I saw the mortality in him, the deep wrinkles of his skin, the&lt;br /&gt;painful flutter of his gaze, a thin layer of soil clinging to him all over in&lt;br /&gt;the natural moisture of his mortal skin.&lt;br /&gt;“You must go home," I said, climbing to sit on the wall, with legs on the&lt;br /&gt;outside. I bent down so he could hear me. He didn’t back away but his eyes were&lt;br /&gt;huge with fascination. “Go see to the girls, and sleep, and get those marks&lt;br /&gt;attended to. The demon’s dead, you needn’t worry anymore about him. Come back&lt;br /&gt;here tomorrow night at sundown.”&lt;br /&gt;He shook his head. He tried to speak but he couldn't. He tried to gesture but he&lt;br /&gt;couldn’t. His heart thundered in his chest. He glanced back down the road to the&lt;br /&gt;small far-flung lights of Antioch. He looked at me. I heard his heart galloping.&lt;br /&gt;I felt his shock, and his fear, and it was fear for me, not him. Fear that some&lt;br /&gt;awful fate had befallen me. He reached for the gate and clung to the bars, right&lt;br /&gt;arm hooked around and left hand clasping it as if he wouldn’t be moved.&lt;br /&gt;I saw myself as he saw me in his mind – in a boy’s sashed tunic, my hair wildly&lt;br /&gt;free, sitting atop the wall, as if my body were young and pliant. All lines of&lt;br /&gt;age had gone from me. He saw a face on me no one could have ever painted.&lt;br /&gt;But the point was this. The man had reached his limit. He could go no further.&lt;br /&gt;And I knew most fully how I loved him.&lt;br /&gt;“All right,” I said. I stood up and leaned over with both my hands. “Come on,&lt;br /&gt;I’ll lift you over the wall if I can.”&lt;br /&gt;He raised his arms, doubtful, eyes still drinking up every detail of my&lt;br /&gt;transformation.&lt;br /&gt;He weighed nothing. I lifted him up and deposited him on his feet within the&lt;br /&gt;gate. I dropped down on the grass beside him and put my arm around him. How hot&lt;br /&gt;was his alarm. How strong his courage.&lt;br /&gt;"Still your heart,” I said. I led him towards the house, as he looked down at&lt;br /&gt;me, his chest heaving as though he were out of breath, but it was mere shock.&lt;br /&gt;“I'll take care of you.”&lt;br /&gt;“I had the thing,” he said, "I had it by its arm.” How opaque his voice sounded,&lt;br /&gt;how filled with living fluid and effort. “I sank my dagger into it over and&lt;br /&gt;over, but it just slashed at my face and it was gone over the wall like a swarm&lt;br /&gt;of gnats, just darkness, immaterial darkness!”&lt;br /&gt;"Flavius, it's dead, burnt to cinders.”&lt;br /&gt;“Had I not heard your voice, oh, I was going mad! I heard the boys crying. I&lt;br /&gt;couldn’t climb the wall with this damned leg. Then I heard your voice, and I&lt;br /&gt;knew, knew you were alive!" He was filled with happiness. “You were with your&lt;br /&gt;Marius.” The ease with which I could feel his love was sweet, and awe&lt;br /&gt;inspiring.&lt;br /&gt;A sudden sense of the Shrine came back to me, of the Queen’s nectar and the&lt;br /&gt;shower of flower petals. But I had to maintain my equilibrium in this new state.&lt;br /&gt;Flavius was also profoundly baffled.&lt;br /&gt;I kissed him on the lips, warm, mortal lips, and then quickly like an artful cat&lt;br /&gt;I licked all the blood from the slash marks on his cheeks, feeling a shiver run&lt;br /&gt;through me.&lt;br /&gt;I took him into the library, which in this house was the main room. The boys&lt;br /&gt;hovered somewhere about. They had been lighting lamps everywhere, and now they&lt;br /&gt;cowered. I could smell their blood and their young human flesh,&lt;br /&gt;"You’ll stay with me, Flavius. Boys, can you make a bedroom for my steward on&lt;br /&gt;this floor? You have fruit and bread, don’t you? I can smell it. Have you enough&lt;br /&gt;furniture to make him a comfortable place to the far right, where he is out of&lt;br /&gt;the way?”&lt;br /&gt;They came rushing out of their respective hiding places, and they too struck me&lt;br /&gt;as vividly human. I was distracted. The smallest natural things about them&lt;br /&gt;seemed precious, their thick black eyebrows, their round little mouths, their&lt;br /&gt;smooth cheeks.&lt;br /&gt;“Yes, Madam, yes!” they said almost in one voice. They hurried forward.&lt;br /&gt;“This is Flavius, my steward. He will stay with us. For now, take him to the&lt;br /&gt;bath, heat the water and attend to him. Get him some wine."&lt;br /&gt;They took Flavius in hand at once. But he paused.&lt;br /&gt;“Don't abandon me, Madam,” he said suddenly with the most serious and thoughtful&lt;br /&gt;expression. "I am loyal in all respects."&lt;br /&gt;“I know,” I said. “Oh, how clearly I understand. You cannot imagine."&lt;br /&gt;Then it was off to the bath with the Babylonian boys, who seemed delighted to&lt;br /&gt;have something to do.&lt;br /&gt;I found Marius’s huge closets. He had enough clothes for the Kings of Parthia,&lt;br /&gt;Armenia, the Emperor’s Mother, Livia, the dead Cleopatra, and an ostentatious&lt;br /&gt;patrician who paid no attention to Tiberius’s stupid sumptuary laws.&lt;br /&gt;I put on a much finer, long tunic, woven of silk and linen, and I chose a gold&lt;br /&gt;girdle. And with Marius’s combs and brushes, I made a clean free mantle of my&lt;br /&gt;hair, free of all tangles, rippled and soft as it had been when I was a girl.&lt;br /&gt;He had many mirrors, which, as you know, in those days were only polished metal.&lt;br /&gt;And I was rendered somber and mystified by the single fact that I was young&lt;br /&gt;again; my nipples were pink, as I had said; the lines of age no longer&lt;br /&gt;interrupted the intended endowments of my face or arms. Perhaps it is most&lt;br /&gt;accurate to say that I was timeless. Timeless in adulthood. And every solid&lt;br /&gt;object seemed there to serve in me my new strength.&lt;br /&gt;I looked down at the blocks of marble tile which made up the floor and saw in&lt;br /&gt;them a depth, a proof of process wondrous and barely understood.&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to go out again, speak to the flowers, pick them up in handfuls. I&lt;br /&gt;wanted to talk urgently with the stars. I dared not seek the Shrine for fear of&lt;br /&gt;Marius, but if he had not been around I would have gone there and knelt at the&lt;br /&gt;Mother and merely looked at her, looked at her in silent contemplation,&lt;br /&gt;listening for the slightest articulation, though I knew, quite certainly after&lt;br /&gt;watching Marius’s behavior, that there would be none.&lt;br /&gt;She had moved her right arm without the seeming knowledge of the rest of her&lt;br /&gt;body. She had moved it to kill, and then to invite.&lt;br /&gt;I went into the library, sat down at the desk, where lay all my pages, and I&lt;br /&gt;waited.&lt;br /&gt;Finally, when Marius came, he too was freshly dressed, his hair parted in the&lt;br /&gt;middle and combed to his shoulders. He took a chair near me. It was ebony and&lt;br /&gt;curved and inlaid with gold, and I looked at him, realizing how very like the&lt;br /&gt;chair he was – a great preserved extension of all the raw materials which had&lt;br /&gt;gone into it. Nature did the carving and inlay, and then the whole had been&lt;br /&gt;lacquered.&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to cry in his arms, but I swallowed my loneliness. The night would&lt;br /&gt;never desert me, and it was faithful in every open door with its intruding&lt;br /&gt;grass, and the veined olive branches rising to catch the light of the moon.&lt;br /&gt;“Blessed is she who is made a blood drinker,” I said, “when the moon is full,&lt;br /&gt;and the clouds are rising like mountains in the transparent night."&lt;br /&gt;“Probably so,” he said.&lt;br /&gt;He moved the lamp that stood on the desk between us, so that it didn’t flicker&lt;br /&gt;in my eyes.&lt;br /&gt;“I made my steward at home here,” I said. “I offered him bath, bed and clothes.&lt;br /&gt;Do you forgive me? I love him and will not lose him. It’s too late now for him&lt;br /&gt;to go back into the world."&lt;br /&gt;“He’s an extraordinary man," Marius said, “and most welcome here. Tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;perhaps he can bring your girls. Then the boys will have company and there will&lt;br /&gt;be some discipline by day. Flavius knows books, among other things."&lt;br /&gt;“You’re most gracious. I was afraid you would be angry. Why do you suffer st I&lt;br /&gt;cannot read your mind; I did not obtain that gift." No, this wasn’t correct. I&lt;br /&gt;could read Flavius’s mind. I knew the boys at this very moment were very&lt;br /&gt;relieved by Flavius’s presence as they helped him dress for bed.&lt;br /&gt;“We are too closely linked by blood,” he said. “I can never read your thoughts&lt;br /&gt;again either. We are thrown back on words like mortals, only our senses are&lt;br /&gt;infinitely keener, and the detachment we know at some times will be as cold as&lt;br /&gt;the ice in the North; and at other times feelings will enflame us, carry us on&lt;br /&gt;waves of burning sea."&lt;br /&gt;“Hmmm,” I said.&lt;br /&gt;“You despise me,” he said softly, contritely, “because I quenched your ecstasy,&lt;br /&gt;I took from you your joy, your convictions.” He looked quite genuinely&lt;br /&gt;miserable. “I did this to you right at the happiest moment of your conversion.”&lt;br /&gt;“Don’t be so sure you quenched it. I might still make her Temples, preach her&lt;br /&gt;worship. I’m an initiate. I have only begun."&lt;br /&gt;“You will not revive her worship!" he said. “Of that I assure you! You will tell&lt;br /&gt;no one about her or what she is or where she is kept, and you will never make&lt;br /&gt;another blood drinker."&lt;br /&gt;“My, if only Tiberius had such authority when he addressed the Senate!" I said.&lt;br /&gt;"All Tiberius ever wanted was to study at the gymnasium at Rhodes, to go every&lt;br /&gt;day in a Greek soak and sandals and talk philosophy. And so the propensity for&lt;br /&gt;action flowers in men of lesser mettle, who use him in his loveless loneliness.”&lt;br /&gt;“Is this a lecture for my improvement? Do you think I don’t know this? What you&lt;br /&gt;don’t know is that the Senate won't help Tiberius govern. Rome wants an Emperor&lt;br /&gt;now, to worship and to like. It was your generation, under Augustus, which&lt;br /&gt;accustomed us to forty years of autocratic rule. Don't talk to me of politics as&lt;br /&gt;though I were a fool."&lt;br /&gt;“I should have realized that you understood it all,” he said. “I remember you in&lt;br /&gt;your girlhood. Nobody could match your brilliance. Your fidelity to Ovid and his&lt;br /&gt;erotic writings was a rare sophistication, an understanding of satire and irony.&lt;br /&gt;A well-nourished Roman frame of mind.”&lt;br /&gt;I looked at him. His face too had been wiped dean of discernible age. I had time&lt;br /&gt;now to relish it, the squareness of his shoulders, the straightness and firmness&lt;br /&gt;of his neck, the distinct expression of his eyes and well-placed eyebrows. We&lt;br /&gt;had been made over into portraits of ourselves in marble by a master sculptor.&lt;br /&gt;“You know,” I said, “even under this crushing and annoying barrage of definition&lt;br /&gt;and declaration which you make to me, as if I were weeping for your&lt;br /&gt;ratification, I feel love for you, and know full well that we are alone in this,&lt;br /&gt;and married to one another, and I am not unhappy.”&lt;br /&gt;He appeared surprised, but said nothing.&lt;br /&gt;"I am exalted, bruised in the heart,” I said, “a hardened pilgrim. But I do wish&lt;br /&gt;you would not speak to me as if my full indoctrination and education were your&lt;br /&gt;primary concern!”&lt;br /&gt;“I have to speak this way!” he said gently. His voice was all kindness in its&lt;br /&gt;heat. “It is my primary concern,” he said. “If you can understand what happened&lt;br /&gt;with the end of the Roman Republic, if you can understand Lucretius and the&lt;br /&gt;Stoics, whole, then you can understand what we are. You have to do this!”&lt;br /&gt;“I'll let that insult pass,” I answered. “I’m not in the mood for listing for&lt;br /&gt;you every philosopher or poet I have read. Nor for recounting the level of talk&lt;br /&gt;around our nighttime table.”&lt;br /&gt;“Pandora, I don’t mean any offense! But Akasha is not a goddess! Remember your&lt;br /&gt;dreams. She is a vial of precious strength. Your dreams told you she could be&lt;br /&gt;used, that any unscrupulous blood drinker could pass on the blood to another,&lt;br /&gt;that she is a form of demon, host to the power we share.”&lt;br /&gt;“She can hear you!" I whispered, outraged.&lt;br /&gt;“Of course, she can. For fifteen years I’ve been her guardian. I've fought off&lt;br /&gt;those renegades from the East. And other connivers from the African hinterlands.&lt;br /&gt;She knows what she is.”&lt;br /&gt;No one could have guessed his age, save from the seriousness of his expression.&lt;br /&gt;A man in perfect form, that was what he seemed. I tried not to be dazzled by&lt;br /&gt;him, by the pulsing night behind him, and yet I wanted so to drift. “Some&lt;br /&gt;wedding feast,” I said. "I have things to say to the trees."&lt;br /&gt;“They will be there tomorrow night,” he said.&lt;br /&gt;The last image I had of her passed before my eyes, colored in ecstasy; she took&lt;br /&gt;the young Pharaoh from his chair and broke him into sticks. I saw her before&lt;br /&gt;that revelation, at the beginning of the swoon, running down the corridor&lt;br /&gt;laughing.&lt;br /&gt;A slow fear crept over me.&lt;br /&gt;“What is it'?" Marius asked. “Confide in me.”&lt;br /&gt;“When I drank from her, I saw her like a girl, laughing.” I recounted then the&lt;br /&gt;marriage, the flood of rose petals, and then her strange Egyptian Temple full of&lt;br /&gt;frenzied worshipers. At last I told him how she had entered the chamber of the&lt;br /&gt;little King, whose advisors warned him of her gods.&lt;br /&gt;“She broke him up as if he were a boy of wood. She said, ‘Little King, little&lt;br /&gt;Kingdom,’ ”&lt;br /&gt;I picked up my pages, which earlier I had placed on this desk. I described the&lt;br /&gt;last dream I had had of her, when she threatened, screaming, to walk into the&lt;br /&gt;sun and destroy her disobedient children. I described all the things I had seen&lt;br /&gt;– the many migrations of my soul.&lt;br /&gt;My heart hurt so much. Even as I explained, I saw her vulnerability, the danger&lt;br /&gt;that was embodied in her. I explained finally how I had written all this in&lt;br /&gt;Egyptian.&lt;br /&gt;I was weary and wished truly that I had never opened eyes on this life! I felt&lt;br /&gt;the keen and total despair again of those nights of weeping in my little house&lt;br /&gt;in Antioch when I had pounded on walls, and driven my dagger into the dirt. If&lt;br /&gt;she had not run, laughing down that corridor! What did the image mean? And the&lt;br /&gt;little boy King, broken so helplessly?&lt;br /&gt;I made a sum of it easily enough. I waited for Marius’s belittling remarks. I&lt;br /&gt;hadn’t much patience for him now.&lt;br /&gt;"How do you interpret it?” he asked gently. He tried to take my hand but I&lt;br /&gt;withdrew it.&lt;br /&gt;“It’s bits and pieces of her recollection,” I said. I was heartbroken. “It’s&lt;br /&gt;what she remembers. There is but one suggestion of a future in it all,” I said.&lt;br /&gt;"There is only one comprehensible image of a wish: our wedding, that we be&lt;br /&gt;together.”, My voice was full of sadness, yet I asked him.&lt;br /&gt;“Why do you weep again, Marius?” I asked. "She must gather recollections like&lt;br /&gt;flowers picked at random from the garden of the world, like leaves falling into&lt;br /&gt;her hands, and from these recollections she fastened for me a garland! A wedding&lt;br /&gt;garland! A trap. I have no migrant soul. I think not. If I did have a migrant&lt;br /&gt;soul, then why would she alone, one so archaic, helpless, irrelevant to the&lt;br /&gt;world itself, so out of fashion and out of power, be the one to know this? To&lt;br /&gt;make it known to me? The only one to know?”&lt;br /&gt;I looked at him. He was engaged yet crying. He showed no shame in it, and would&lt;br /&gt;obviously render no apology.&lt;br /&gt;“What was it you said before?” I asked. “ ‘That I can read minds makes me no&lt;br /&gt;wiser than the next man'?" I smiled. “That is the key. How she laughed as she&lt;br /&gt;led me to you. How she wanted me to behold you in your loneliness.”&lt;br /&gt;He only nodded.&lt;br /&gt;"I wonder how she knew to cast her net so far," I said, “to find me across the&lt;br /&gt;rolling sea.”&lt;br /&gt;“Lucius, that’s how she knew. She hears voices from many lands. She sees what&lt;br /&gt;she wants to see. One night here I badly startled a Roman, who appeared to&lt;br /&gt;recognize me and then slunk away as if I were a danger to him. I went after him,&lt;br /&gt;thinking vaguely that there was something to this, his excessive fear.&lt;br /&gt;“I soon realized a great weight distorted his conscience and twisted his every&lt;br /&gt;thought and movement. He was terrified to be recognized by someone from the&lt;br /&gt;capital. He wanted to leave.&lt;br /&gt;“He went to the house of a Greek merchant, pounding on the door late, by&lt;br /&gt;torchlight, and demanded the payment of a debt owed to your Father. The Greek&lt;br /&gt;told him what he had told him before, that the money would be repaid only to&lt;br /&gt;your Father himself.&lt;br /&gt;“The next night I sought Lucius out again. This time the Greek had a surprise&lt;br /&gt;for him. A letter had just come from your Father by military ship. This was&lt;br /&gt;perhaps four days before your own arrival. The letter plainly stated that a&lt;br /&gt;favor was being asked of the Greek by your Father in the name of Hospitality and&lt;br /&gt;Honor. If the favor was granted, all debts were canceled. Everything would be&lt;br /&gt;explained by a letter accompanying a cargo destined for Antioch. The cargo would&lt;br /&gt;take some time, as the ship had many stops to make. The favor was of crucial&lt;br /&gt;importance.&lt;br /&gt;"When your brother saw the date of this letter, he was stricken. The Greek, who&lt;br /&gt;was thoroughly sick of Lucius by this time, slammed the door in his face.&lt;br /&gt;“I accosted Lucius only steps away. Of course he remembered me, the eccentric&lt;br /&gt;Marius of long ago. I pretended surprise to see him here and asked after you. He&lt;br /&gt;was in a panic and made up some story about your being married and living in&lt;br /&gt;Tuscany, and said that he was on his way out of town. He hurried off. But the&lt;br /&gt;moment’s contact had been enough to see the testimony he’d given the Praetorian&lt;br /&gt;Guard against his family – all lies – and to imagine the deeds that had resulted&lt;br /&gt;from it.&lt;br /&gt;"The next time, on waking, I couldn't find him. I kept watch on the house of the&lt;br /&gt;Greeks. I weighed in my mind a visit to the old man, the Greek merchant, some&lt;br /&gt;way to lay down a friendship with him. I thought of you. I pictured you. I&lt;br /&gt;remembered you. I made up poems in my head about you. I didn’t hear or see&lt;br /&gt;anything of your brother. I presumed he’d left Antioch.&lt;br /&gt;“Then one night I awoke and came upstairs and looked out to see the city full of&lt;br /&gt;random fires.&lt;br /&gt;"Germanicus had died, never retracting his accusations that Piso had poisoned&lt;br /&gt;him.&lt;br /&gt;“When I reached the house of the Greek merchant, it was nothing but burnt&lt;br /&gt;timbers. I caught no sight or sound of your brother anywhere. For all I knew&lt;br /&gt;they were all dead, your brother, and the Greek merchant family.&lt;br /&gt;"All through the nights after, I searched for sight or sound of Lucius. I had no&lt;br /&gt;idea you were here, only an obsessive longing for you. I tried to remind myself&lt;br /&gt;that if I mourned for every mortal tie I had had when alive, I would go mad long&lt;br /&gt;before I had learnt anything about my gifts from our King and Queen.&lt;br /&gt;“Then, I was in the bookseller’s and it was early evening and the Priest slipped&lt;br /&gt;up to me. He pointed to you. There you stood in the Forum, and the philosopher&lt;br /&gt;and students were bidding you farewell. I was so dose!&lt;br /&gt;“I was so overcome with love I didn’t even listen to the Priest until I realized&lt;br /&gt;he was speaking of strange dreams as he pointed to you. He was saying that only&lt;br /&gt;I could put it all together. It had to do with the blood drinker who had&lt;br /&gt;recently been in Antioch, not an uncommon occurrence. I have slain other blood&lt;br /&gt;drinkers before. I’ve vowed to catch this one.&lt;br /&gt;“Then I saw Lucius. I saw you come together. His anger and guilt were nearly&lt;br /&gt;blinding to me with this blood drinker’s vision. I heard your words effortlessly&lt;br /&gt;from a great distance, but would not move until you were safely away from him.&lt;br /&gt;"I wanted to kill him then, but the wiser course seemed to stay right with you,&lt;br /&gt;to enter the Temple and stay by your side. I was not certain of my right to kill&lt;br /&gt;your brother for you, that it was what you wanted. I didn’t know that until I’d&lt;br /&gt;told you of his guilt. Then I knew how much you wanted it done.&lt;br /&gt;“Of course I had no idea how clever you had become, that all the talent for&lt;br /&gt;reason and words I’d loved in you when you were a girl was still there. Suddenly&lt;br /&gt;you were in the Temple, thinking three times faster than the other mortals&lt;br /&gt;present, weighing every aspect of what faced you, outwitting everyone. And then&lt;br /&gt;came the spectacular confrontation with your brother in which you caught him in&lt;br /&gt;the most clever net of truths, and thereby dispatched him, without ever touching&lt;br /&gt;him, but instead drawing three military witnesses into complicity with his&lt;br /&gt;death.”&lt;br /&gt;He broke off, then said, “In Rome, years ago, I followed you. You were sixteen.&lt;br /&gt;I remember your first marriage. Your Father took me aside, he was so gentle.&lt;br /&gt;‘Marius, you’re destined to be a roaming historian,' he said. I didn’t dare tell&lt;br /&gt;him my true estimation of your husband.&lt;br /&gt;"And now you come to Antioch, and I think, in my self-centered manner, as you&lt;br /&gt;will promptly note – if ever a woman was created for me, it is this woman. And I&lt;br /&gt;know as soon as I leave you in the morning, that I must somehow get the Mother&lt;br /&gt;and Father out of Antioch, get them away, but then this blood drinker has to be&lt;br /&gt;destroyed, and then and only then can you be safely left.”&lt;br /&gt;"Safely abandoned,” I said.&lt;br /&gt;“Do you blame me?” he asked.&lt;br /&gt;The question caught me off guard. I looked at him for a seemingly endless&lt;br /&gt;moment, allowing his beauty to fill my eyes, and sensing with intolerable&lt;br /&gt;keenness his sadness and desperation. Oh, how he needed me! How desperately he&lt;br /&gt;needed not just any mortal soul in which to confide, but me.&lt;br /&gt;“You really did want to protect me, didn’t you?" I asked. “And your explanation&lt;br /&gt;of all points is so completely rational; it has the elegance of mathematics.&lt;br /&gt;There is no need for reincarnation, or destiny, or any miraculous allowance for&lt;br /&gt;any part of what’s happened.”&lt;br /&gt;"It's what I believe,” he said sharply. His face grew blank, then stern. “I&lt;br /&gt;would never give you anything short of truth. Are you a woman who wants to be&lt;br /&gt;humored?”&lt;br /&gt;"Don’t be fanatical in your dedication to reason," I said.&lt;br /&gt;These words both shocked and offended him.&lt;br /&gt;“Don’t cling to reason so desperately in a world of so many horrid&lt;br /&gt;contradictions!”&lt;br /&gt;He was silenced.&lt;br /&gt;"If you so cling to reason,” I said, "then in the passage of time reason may&lt;br /&gt;fail you, and when it does you may find yourself taking refuge in madness.”&lt;br /&gt;“What on Earth do you mean?"&lt;br /&gt;"You’ve made of reason and logic religion. It’s obviously the only way you can&lt;br /&gt;endure what's happened to you, that you’re a blood drinker and custodian,&lt;br /&gt;apparently, of these displaced and forgotten deities.”&lt;br /&gt;“They aren't deities!” He grew angry. “Thousands of years ago, they were made,&lt;br /&gt;through some mingling of spirit and flesh that rendered them immortal. They find&lt;br /&gt;their refuge obviously in oblivion. In your kindness you characterize it as a&lt;br /&gt;garden from which the Mother gathered flowers and leaves to make a garland for&lt;br /&gt;you, a trap, as you said. But this is your sweet girlish poetry. We do not know&lt;br /&gt;that they string very many words together.”&lt;br /&gt;“I am no sweet girl,” I said. “Poetry belongs to everyone. Speak to me!” I said.&lt;br /&gt;"And put aside these words, ‘girl’ and ‘woman.’ Don’t be so frightened of me.”&lt;br /&gt;“I am not," he said angrily.&lt;br /&gt;“You are! Even as this new blood races through me still, eats at me and&lt;br /&gt;transforms me, I cling to neither reason nor superstition for my safety. I can&lt;br /&gt;walk through a myth and out of it! You fear me, because you don’t know what I&lt;br /&gt;am. I look like a woman, I sound like a man, and your reason tells you the sum&lt;br /&gt;total is impossible!"&lt;br /&gt;He rose from the table. His face took on a sheen like sweat but far more&lt;br /&gt;radiant.&lt;br /&gt;“Let me tell you what happened to me!" he said resolutely.&lt;br /&gt;“Good, do tell me,” I said. “In straightforward manner.”&lt;br /&gt;He let this go by. I spoke against my heart. I wanted only to love him. I knew&lt;br /&gt;his cautions. But for all his wisdom, he displayed an enormous will, a man's&lt;br /&gt;will, and I had to know the source of it. I concealed my love.&lt;br /&gt;"How did they lure you?”&lt;br /&gt;“They didn’t,” he said calmly. "I was captured by the Keltoi in Gaul, in the&lt;br /&gt;city of Massilia. I was brought North, my hair allowed to grow long, then shut&lt;br /&gt;up amid barbarians in a great hollow tree in Gaul. A burnt blood drinker made me&lt;br /&gt;into a 'new god’ and told me to escape the local Priests, go South to Egypt and&lt;br /&gt;find out why all the blood drinkers had been burnt, the young ones dying, the&lt;br /&gt;old one suffering. I went for my own reasons! I wanted to know what I was!”&lt;br /&gt;"I can well understand," I said.&lt;br /&gt;"But not before I saw blood worship at its most grisly and unspeakable – I was&lt;br /&gt;the god, mind you, Marius, who followed you adoringly all over Rome – and it was&lt;br /&gt;to me that these men were offered.”&lt;br /&gt;“I’ve read it in Caesar's history."&lt;br /&gt;"You've read it but you haven’t seen it. How dare you throw at me such a trivial&lt;br /&gt;boast!"&lt;br /&gt;"Forgive me, I forgot your childish temper.”&lt;br /&gt;He sighed. “Forgive me, I forgot your practical and naturally impatient&lt;br /&gt;intellect.”&lt;br /&gt;“I’m sorry. I regret my words. I had to 'witness executions of Rome. It was my&lt;br /&gt;duty. And that was in the name of law. Who suffers more or less'? Victims of&lt;br /&gt;sacrifice or the law?"&lt;br /&gt;'Very well. I escaped these Keltoi and went to Egypt, and there I found the&lt;br /&gt;Elder, who was the keeper of the Mother and the Father, the Queen and the King,&lt;br /&gt;the first blood drinkers of all time, from which this enhancement of our blood&lt;br /&gt;flows. This Elder told me stories that were vague but compelling. The Royal Pair&lt;br /&gt;had once been human, no more. A spirit or demon had possessed one or both,&lt;br /&gt;lodging itself so firmly that no exorcism could oust it. The Royal Pair could&lt;br /&gt;transform others by giving the blood. They sought to make a religion. It was&lt;br /&gt;overthrown. Again and again it was overthrown. Anyone who possesses the blood&lt;br /&gt;can make another! Of course this Elder claimed ignorance of why so many had been&lt;br /&gt;burnt. But it was he who had dragged his sacred and royal charges into the sun&lt;br /&gt;after centuries of meaningless guardianship! Egypt was dead, he said to me. ‘The&lt;br /&gt;granary of Rome,’ he called it. He said the Royal Pair had not moved in a&lt;br /&gt;millennium.”&lt;br /&gt;This filled me with the most remarkable and poetic sense of horror.&lt;br /&gt;“Well, one day’s hot light was not enough anymore to destroy the ancient&lt;br /&gt;parents, but all over the world the children swered. And this cowardly Elder,&lt;br /&gt;given only pain for his reward, a burned skin, lost the courage required to&lt;br /&gt;continue the exposure of the Royal Pair. He had no cause, one or another.&lt;br /&gt;“Akasha spoke to me. She spoke as best she could. In images, pictures of what&lt;br /&gt;had happened since the beginning, how this tribe of gods and goddesses had&lt;br /&gt;sprung from her, and rebellions had occurred, and how much history was lost, and&lt;br /&gt;purpose was lost, and when it came to the forming of words, Akasha could make&lt;br /&gt;but only a few silent sentences: ‘Marius, take us out of Egypt! ' ” He paused. “&lt;br /&gt;‘Take us out of Egypt, Marius. The Elder means to destroy us. Guard us or we&lt;br /&gt;perish here.’ ’*&lt;br /&gt;He took a breath; he was calmer now, not so angry, but very much shattered, and&lt;br /&gt;in my ever increasing vampiric vision, I knew more about him, how very&lt;br /&gt;courageous he was, how very determined to hold to principles in which he&lt;br /&gt;believed, in spite of the magic that had swallowed him whole before he had had&lt;br /&gt;time even to question it. His was an attempt at a noble life, in spite of all.&lt;br /&gt;“My fate," he said, “was directly connected to hers, to them! If I left them,&lt;br /&gt;the Elder would sooner or later put them in the sun again, and I, lacking the&lt;br /&gt;blood of centuries, would burn up like wax! My life, already altered, would have&lt;br /&gt;been ended. But the Elder did not ask me to install a new priesthood. Akasha did&lt;br /&gt;not ask me to install a new religion! She did not speak of altars or worship.&lt;br /&gt;Only the old burntout god in the Northern grove among the barbarians had asked&lt;br /&gt;me to do such a thing when he sent me to the South, to Egypt, the motherland of&lt;br /&gt;all mysteries."&lt;br /&gt;“How long have you kept them?”&lt;br /&gt;"Over fifteen years. I lose count. They never move or speak. The wounded ones,&lt;br /&gt;those burnt so badly that time will take centuries to heal them, they learn that&lt;br /&gt;I am here. They come. I try to extinguish them before their minds can give forth&lt;br /&gt;a flash of a confirming image to other distant minds. She doesn’t guide these&lt;br /&gt;burnt children to where she is, as she once guided me! If I am tricked or&lt;br /&gt;overwhelmed, she moves only as you saw, to crush the blood drinker. But she has&lt;br /&gt;called you, Pandora, reached out for you. And we know now to what exact purpose.&lt;br /&gt;And I've been cruel to you. Clumsy."&lt;br /&gt;He turned to me. His voice grew tender. “Tell me, Pandora,” he asked. “In the&lt;br /&gt;vision you saw, when we were married, were we young or old'? Were you the girl&lt;br /&gt;of fifteen I sought too early perhaps, or the mature full blossom of a creature&lt;br /&gt;you are now? Are the families happy? Are we comely?”&lt;br /&gt;I was hotly embraced by the sincerity of his words. The anguish and the pleading&lt;br /&gt;that lay behind them.&lt;br /&gt;“We were as we are now,” I said, cautiously answering his smile with my own.&lt;br /&gt;"You were a man fixed in the prime of life forever, and I? As I am at this&lt;br /&gt;hour."&lt;br /&gt;“Believe me,” he said with sweetness in his voice,&lt;br /&gt;“I would not have spoken so harshly on this of all nights, but you have now so&lt;br /&gt;many other nights to come. Nothing can kill you now, but the sun or fire.&lt;br /&gt;Nothing in you will deteriorate. You have a thousand experiences to discover.”&lt;br /&gt;“And what of the ecstasy when I drank from her?" I asked. “What of her own&lt;br /&gt;beginnings and her suffering? Does she in no way connect herself to the sacred?”&lt;br /&gt;“What is sacred?" he asked, shrugging his shoulder. “Tell me. What is sacred?&lt;br /&gt;Was it sanctity you saw in her dreams?”&lt;br /&gt;I bowed my head. I couldn’t answer.&lt;br /&gt;“Certainly not the Roman Empire," he said, “Certainly not the temples of&lt;br /&gt;Augustus Caesar. Certainly not the worship of Cybele! Certainly not the cult of&lt;br /&gt;those who worship fire in Persia. Is the name Isis sacred anymore, or was it&lt;br /&gt;ever? The Elder in Egypt, my first and only instructor in all this, said that&lt;br /&gt;Akasha invented the stories of Isis and Osiris to suit her purposes, to give a&lt;br /&gt;poetry to her worship. I think rather she grafted herself upon old stories. The&lt;br /&gt;demon in those two grows with each new blood drinker made. It must."&lt;br /&gt;“But to no purpose?”&lt;br /&gt;“That it may know more?” he said. “That it may see more, feel more, through each&lt;br /&gt;of us which carries its blood? Perhaps it is such a creature as that and each of&lt;br /&gt;us is but a tiny part of it, carrying all its senses and capacities and&lt;br /&gt;returning our experiences to it. It reaches out through us to know the world!"&lt;br /&gt;“I can tell you this,” he said. He paused and put his hands on the desk. "What&lt;br /&gt;burns in me does not care if the victim is innocent or guilty of any crime. It&lt;br /&gt;thirsts. Not every night, but often! It says nothing! It does not talk of altars&lt;br /&gt;to me in my heart! It drives me as though I were the battle steed and it the&lt;br /&gt;mounted General! It is Marius who weeds the good from the bad, according to the&lt;br /&gt;old custom, for reasons you can well understand, but not this ravening thirst;&lt;br /&gt;this thirst knows nature but no morality.”&lt;br /&gt;“I love you, Marius,” I said. “You and my Father are the only men I’ve ever&lt;br /&gt;really loved. But I must go out alone now.”&lt;br /&gt;“What did you say!” He was amazed. “It's just past midnight.“&lt;br /&gt;“You’ve been very patient, but I have to walk alone now.”&lt;br /&gt;“I’ll come with you.”&lt;br /&gt;“You will not,” I said.&lt;br /&gt;“But you can’t simply roam around Antioch on your own, alone.”&lt;br /&gt;“Why not? I can hear mortal thoughts now if I want to. A litter just passed. The&lt;br /&gt;slaves are so drunk it’s a wonder they don't drop the thing and heave the Master&lt;br /&gt;into the road, and he himself is fast asleep. I want to walk alone, out there,&lt;br /&gt;in the city in the dark places and the dangerous places and the evil places and&lt;br /&gt;the places where even ... where even a god would not go.”&lt;br /&gt;“This is your vengeance on me,” he said. I walked towards the gate and he&lt;br /&gt;followed. “Pandora, not alone.”&lt;br /&gt;“Marius, my love," I said, turning, taking his hand. “It is not vengeance. The&lt;br /&gt;words you spoke earlier, ‘girl’ and ‘woman,’ they have always circumscribed my&lt;br /&gt;life. I want only now to walk fearlessly with my arms bare and my hair down my&lt;br /&gt;hack, into any cavern of danger I choose. I am drunk still from her blood, from&lt;br /&gt;yours! Things shimmer and flicker that should shine. I must be alone to ponder&lt;br /&gt;all you’ve said."&lt;br /&gt;“But you have to be back before dawn, well before. You have to be with me in the&lt;br /&gt;crypt below. You can’t merely lie in some room somewhere. The deadly light will&lt;br /&gt;penetrate –”&lt;br /&gt;He was so protective, so lustrous, so infuriated.&lt;br /&gt;“I will be back,” I said, “and well before dawn, and for now, my heart will&lt;br /&gt;break if we are not, as of this moment, bound together.”&lt;br /&gt;“We are bound,” he said. "Pandora, you could drive me mad.”&lt;br /&gt;He stopped at the bars of the gate.&lt;br /&gt;“Don’t come any farther," I said as I left.&lt;br /&gt;I walked down towards Antioch. My legs had such strength and spring, and the&lt;br /&gt;dust and pebbles of the road were nothing to my feet, and my eyes penetrated the&lt;br /&gt;night to see the full conspiracy of owls and little rodents that hovered in the&lt;br /&gt;trees, eyeing me, then fleeing as if their natural senses warned them against&lt;br /&gt;me.&lt;br /&gt;Soon I came into the city proper. I think the resolution with which I moved from&lt;br /&gt;little street to little street was enough to frighten anyone who would have&lt;br /&gt;contemplated molesting me. I heard only cowardice and erotic curses from the&lt;br /&gt;dark, those tangled ugly curses men heap on women they desire – half threat,&lt;br /&gt;half dismissal.&lt;br /&gt;I could sense the people in their houses fast asleep, and hear the guards on&lt;br /&gt;watch, talking in their barracks behind the Forum.&lt;br /&gt;I did all the things the new blood drinkers always do. I touched the surfaces of&lt;br /&gt;walls and stared, enchanted at a common torch and the moths that gave themselves&lt;br /&gt;up to it. I felt against my naked arms and fragile tunic the dreams of all&lt;br /&gt;Antioch surrounding me.&lt;br /&gt;Rats fled up and down the gutters and the streets. The river gave off its own&lt;br /&gt;sound, and there came a hollow echoing from the ships at anchor, even from the&lt;br /&gt;faintest stirring of the water.&lt;br /&gt;The Forum, resplendent with its ever burning lights, caught the moon as if it&lt;br /&gt;were a great human trap for it, the very reverse of an earthly crater, a&lt;br /&gt;man-made design that could be seen and blessed by the intransigent heavens.&lt;br /&gt;When I came to my own house,, I found I could climb to the very top easily, and&lt;br /&gt;there I sat on the tiled roof, so relaxed and secure and free, looking down into&lt;br /&gt;the courtyard, into the peristyle, where I had really learned – alone on those&lt;br /&gt;three nights – the truths that had prepared me for Akasha’s blood.&lt;br /&gt;In calmness and without pain, I thought it through again – as if I owed this&lt;br /&gt;reconsideration to the woman I had been, the initiate, the woman who had sought&lt;br /&gt;refuge in the Temple. Marius was right. The Queen and King were possessed of&lt;br /&gt;some demon which spread through the blood, feeding upon it and growing, as I&lt;br /&gt;could feel it doing in me now.&lt;br /&gt;The King and Queen did not invent justice! The Queen, who broke the little&lt;br /&gt;Pharaoh into sticks, did not invent law or righteousness!&lt;br /&gt;And the Roman courts, bumbling awkwardly towards each decision, weighing all&lt;br /&gt;sides, refusing any magical or religious device, they did even in these terrible&lt;br /&gt;times strive for justice. It was a system based not upon the revelation of the&lt;br /&gt;gods, but upon reason.&lt;br /&gt;But I could not regret the moment of intoxication when I'd drunk her blood and&lt;br /&gt;believed in her, and seen the flowers come down upon us. I could not regret that&lt;br /&gt;any mind could conceive of such perfect transcendence.&lt;br /&gt;She had been my Mother, my Queen, my goddess, my all. I had known it as we were&lt;br /&gt;meant to know it when we drink the potions in the Temple, when we sing, when we&lt;br /&gt;are rocking in delirious song. And in her arms I had known it. In Marius’s arms&lt;br /&gt;I'd known it as well, and in a safer measure, and I wanted only to be with him&lt;br /&gt;now.&lt;br /&gt;How ghastly her worship seemed. Flawed and ignorant, being elevated to such&lt;br /&gt;power! And how revealing suddenly that at the core of mysteries there should lie&lt;br /&gt;such degrading explanations. Blood spilt on her golden gown!&lt;br /&gt;All images and meaningful glimpses do but teach you deeper things, I thought&lt;br /&gt;again, as I had in the Temple, when I had settled for the consolation of a&lt;br /&gt;basalt statue.&lt;br /&gt;It is I, and I alone, who must make of my new life a heroic tale.&lt;br /&gt;I was very happy for Marius that he had such comfort in reason. But reason was&lt;br /&gt;only a created thing, imposed with faith upon the world, and the stars promise&lt;br /&gt;nothing to no one.&lt;br /&gt;I had seen something deeper in those dark nights of hiding in this house in&lt;br /&gt;Antioch, in mourning for my Father. I had seen that at the very heart of&lt;br /&gt;Creation there very well might lie something as uncontrollable and&lt;br /&gt;incomprehensible as a raging volcano.&lt;br /&gt;Its lava would destroy trees and poets alike.&lt;br /&gt;So take this gift, Pandora, I told myself. Go home, thankful that you are again&lt;br /&gt;wed, for you have never made a better match or seen a more tantalizing future.&lt;br /&gt;When I returned, and my return was very rapid, full of new lessons in how I&lt;br /&gt;might pass quickly over rooftops, scarce touching them, and over walls – when I&lt;br /&gt;returned, I found him as I had left him, only much sadder. He sat in the garden,&lt;br /&gt;just as he had in the vision shown to me by Akasha.&lt;br /&gt;It must have been a place he loved, behind the villa with its many doors, a&lt;br /&gt;bench facing a thicket and a natural stream bubbling up and over the rocks and&lt;br /&gt;spilling down into a current through high grass.&lt;br /&gt;He rose at once.&lt;br /&gt;I took him in my arms.&lt;br /&gt;"Marius, forgive me," I said.&lt;br /&gt;“Don’t say such a thing, I’m to blame for it all. And I didn’t protect you from&lt;br /&gt;it."&lt;br /&gt;We were in each other’s arms. I wanted to press my teeth into him, drink his&lt;br /&gt;blood, and then I did, and felt him taking the blood from me. This was a union&lt;br /&gt;more powerful than any I had ever known in a marriage bed, and I yielded to it&lt;br /&gt;as I never yielded in life to anyone.&lt;br /&gt;I felt an exhaustion sweep me suddenly. I withdrew my kiss with its teeth.&lt;br /&gt;"Come on, now,” he said. “Your slave is asleep. And during the day, while we&lt;br /&gt;must sleep, he will bring all your possessions here, and those girls of yours,&lt;br /&gt;should you want to keep them.”&lt;br /&gt;We walked down the stairs, we entered another room. It took all Marius’s&lt;br /&gt;strength to pull back the door, which meant simply that no mortal man could do&lt;br /&gt;it.&lt;br /&gt;There lay a sarcophagus, plain, of granite.&lt;br /&gt;“Can you lift the lid of the sarcophagus?" Marius asked.&lt;br /&gt;“I am feeling weald"&lt;br /&gt;“It’s the sun rising, try to 1ift the lid. Slide it to one side.”&lt;br /&gt;I did, and inside I found a bed of crushed lilies and rose petals, of silken&lt;br /&gt;pillows, and bits of dried flower kept for scent.&lt;br /&gt;I stepped in, turned around, sat and stretched out in this stone prison. At once&lt;br /&gt;he took his place in the tomb beside me, and pushed the lid back to its place,&lt;br /&gt;and all the world’s light in any form was shut out, as if the dead would have it&lt;br /&gt;so.&lt;br /&gt;“I'm drowsy. I can hardly form words."&lt;br /&gt;“What a blessing," he said.&lt;br /&gt;“There is no need for such an insult," I murmured. “But I forgive you."&lt;br /&gt;“Pandora, I love you!" he said helplessly.&lt;br /&gt;“Put it inside me,” I said, reaching between his legs. “Fill me and hold me.”&lt;br /&gt;“This is stupid and superstitious!”&lt;br /&gt;"It is neither," I said. "It is symbolic and comforting."&lt;br /&gt;He obeyed. Our bodies were one, connected by this sterile organ which was no&lt;br /&gt;more to him now than his arm, but how I loved the arm he threw over me and the&lt;br /&gt;lips he pressed to my forehead.&lt;br /&gt;“I love you, Marius, my strange, tall and beautiful Marius.”&lt;br /&gt;“I don’t believe you,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.&lt;br /&gt;"What do you mean?"&lt;br /&gt;“You’ll despise me soon enough for what I’ve done to you."&lt;br /&gt;“Not so, oh, rational one. I am not as eager to grow old, wither and die, as you&lt;br /&gt;might think. I should like a chance to know more, to see more..."&lt;br /&gt;I felt his lips against my forehead.&lt;br /&gt;“Did you really try to marry me when I was fifteen?”&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, agonizing memories! Your Father’s insults still sting my ears! He had me&lt;br /&gt;all but thrown out of your house!”&lt;br /&gt;“I love you with my whole heart,” I whispered. “And you have won. You have me&lt;br /&gt;now as your wife.”&lt;br /&gt;“I have you as something, but I do not think that ‘wife’ is the word for it. I&lt;br /&gt;wonder that you’ve already forgotten your earlier strenuous objection to the&lt;br /&gt;term.&lt;br /&gt;“Together," I said, scarce able to talk on account of his kisses. I was drowsy,&lt;br /&gt;and loved the feel of his lips, their sudden eagerness for pure auction. "We’ll&lt;br /&gt;think of another word more exalted than ‘wife.’ ”&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly I moved back. I could not see him in the dark.&lt;br /&gt;‘Are you kissing me so that I will not talk'?”&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, that’s exactly what I was doing,” he said.&lt;br /&gt;I turned away from him.&lt;br /&gt;“Turn back, please,” he said.&lt;br /&gt;“No,” I said.&lt;br /&gt;I lay still, realizing dimly that his body felt quite normal to me now, because&lt;br /&gt;mine was as hard as his was, as strong perhaps. What a sublime advantage. Oh,&lt;br /&gt;but I loved him. I loved him! So let him kiss the back of the neck! He could not&lt;br /&gt;force me to turn towards him!&lt;br /&gt;The sun must have risen.&lt;br /&gt;For a silence fell on me which was as if the universe with all its volcanoes and&lt;br /&gt;raging tides – and all its Emperors, Kings, judges, Senators, philosophers and&lt;br /&gt;Priests – had been erased from existence.&lt;br /&gt;II&lt;br /&gt;Well, David, there you have it.&lt;br /&gt;I could continue the Plautus-Terence style comedy for pages. I could vie with&lt;br /&gt;Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing.&lt;br /&gt;But that is the basic story. That is what lies behind the flippant capsule&lt;br /&gt;version in The Vampire Lestat,&lt;br /&gt;fashioned into its final trivial form by Marius or Lestat, who knows.&lt;br /&gt;Let me lead you through those points which are sacred and burn still in my&lt;br /&gt;heart, no matter how easily they have been dismissed by another.&lt;br /&gt;And the tale of our parting is not mere dissonance but may contain some lesson.&lt;br /&gt;Marius taught me to hunt, to catch the evildoer only, and to kill without pain,&lt;br /&gt;enwrapping the soul of my victim in sweet visions or allowing the soul to&lt;br /&gt;illuminate its own death with a cascade of fantasies which I must not judge, but&lt;br /&gt;merely devour, like the blood. All that does not require detailed documentation.&lt;br /&gt;We were matched in strength. When some burnt and ruthlessly ambitious blood&lt;br /&gt;drinker did find his way to Antioch, which happened only a few times and then&lt;br /&gt;not at all, we executed the supplicant together. These were monstrous&lt;br /&gt;mentalities, forged in ages we could hardly understand, and they sought the&lt;br /&gt;Queen like jackals seek the bodies of the human dead.&lt;br /&gt;There was no argument between us over any of them.&lt;br /&gt;We often read aloud to each other, and we laughed together at Petronius's&lt;br /&gt;Satyricon, and we shared both tears and laughter later as we read the bitter&lt;br /&gt;satires of Juvenal. There was no end of new satire and history coming from Rome&lt;br /&gt;and from Alexandria.&lt;br /&gt;But something forever divided Marius from me.&lt;br /&gt;Love grew but so did constant argument, and argument became more and more the&lt;br /&gt;dangerous cement of the bond.&lt;br /&gt;Over the years, Marius guarded his delicate rationality as a Vestal Virgin&lt;br /&gt;guards a sacred flame. If ever any ecstatic emotion took hold of me, he was&lt;br /&gt;there to grab me by the shoulders and tell me in no uncertain terms that it was&lt;br /&gt;irrational. Irrational, irrational, irrational!&lt;br /&gt;When the terrible earthquake of, the second century struck Antioch, and we were&lt;br /&gt;unharmed, I dared speak of it as a Divine Blessing. This set Marius into a rage,&lt;br /&gt;and he was quick to point that the same Divine Intervention had also protected&lt;br /&gt;the Roman Emperor Trajan, who was in the city at the time. What was I to make of&lt;br /&gt;that?&lt;br /&gt;For the record, Antioch quickly rebuilt itself, the markets flourished, more&lt;br /&gt;slaves poured in, nothing stopped the caravans headed for the ships, and the&lt;br /&gt;ships headed for the caravans.&lt;br /&gt;But long before that earthquake we had all but come to blows night after night.&lt;br /&gt;If I lingered for hours in the room of the Mother and the Father, Marius&lt;br /&gt;invariably came to collect me and bring me back to my senses. He could not read&lt;br /&gt;in peace with me in such a state, he declared. He could not think because he&lt;br /&gt;knew I was downstairs deliberately inviting madness.&lt;br /&gt;Why, I demanded, must his domination extend to every corner of our entire house&lt;br /&gt;and garden? And how was it that I was his match in strength when an old burnt&lt;br /&gt;blood drinker found his way to Antioch and we picked up the word of his killing&lt;br /&gt;and had to do away with him?&lt;br /&gt;"We are not matched in minds?” I demanded.&lt;br /&gt;“Only you could ask that question!" came his reply.&lt;br /&gt;Of course the Mother and Father never moved or spoke again. No blood dreams, no&lt;br /&gt;divine directive ever reached me. Only now and then did Marius remind me of&lt;br /&gt;this. And after a long while, he allowed me to tend the Shrine with him, to see&lt;br /&gt;full well the extent of their silent and seemingly mindless compliance. They&lt;br /&gt;appeared utterly beyond reach; their cooperation was sluggish and frightening to&lt;br /&gt;witness.&lt;br /&gt;When Flavius fell ill in his fortieth year, Marius and I had the first of our&lt;br /&gt;truly terrible battles. This came early on, well before the earthquake.&lt;br /&gt;It was, by the way, a wondrous time because the wicked old Tiberius was filling&lt;br /&gt;Antioch with new and wonderful buildings. She was the rival of Rome. But Flavius&lt;br /&gt;was ill.&lt;br /&gt;Marius could scarce bear it. He had become more than fond of Flavius – they&lt;br /&gt;talked about Aristotle all the time, and Flavius proved one of those men who can&lt;br /&gt;do anything for you, from managing a household to copying the most esoteric and&lt;br /&gt;crumbling text with complete accuracy.&lt;br /&gt;Flavius had never put a single question to us as to what we were. In his mind, I&lt;br /&gt;found, devotion and acceptance far superseded curiosity or fear.&lt;br /&gt;We hoped Flavius had only a minor illness. But finally, as Flavius’s fever grew&lt;br /&gt;worse, Flavius turned his head away from Marius whenever Marius came to him. But&lt;br /&gt;he held on to my hand always when I offered it. Frequently I lay beside him for&lt;br /&gt;hours, as he had once lain beside me.&lt;br /&gt;Then one night Marius took me to the gate and said, “He’ll be dead by the time I&lt;br /&gt;come back. Can you bear this alone?"&lt;br /&gt;“Do you run from it?" I asked.&lt;br /&gt;"No,” he said. “But he doesn’t want me to see him die; he doesn’t want me to see&lt;br /&gt;him groan in pain.”&lt;br /&gt;I nodded.&lt;br /&gt;Marius left.&lt;br /&gt;Marius had long ago laid down the rule that no other blood drinker was ever to&lt;br /&gt;be made. I didn't bother to question him on this.&lt;br /&gt;As soon as he was gone, I made Flavius into a vampire. I did it just the way the&lt;br /&gt;burnt one, Marius and Akasha had done it to me, for Marius and I had long&lt;br /&gt;discussed the methods – withdraw as much blood as you can, then give it back&lt;br /&gt;until you are near to fainting.&lt;br /&gt;I did faint and wake to see this splendid Greek standing over me, smiling&lt;br /&gt;faintly, all disease gone from him. He reached down to take my hand and help me&lt;br /&gt;to my feet.&lt;br /&gt;Marius walked in, stared at the reborn Flavius in amazement and said, “Get out,&lt;br /&gt;out of this house, out of this city, out of this province, out of this Empire.”&lt;br /&gt;Flavius's last words to me were:&lt;br /&gt;"Thank you for this Dark Gift.” That is the first I ever heard that particular&lt;br /&gt;phrase, which appears so often in Lestat's writings. How well this learned&lt;br /&gt;Athenian understood it.&lt;br /&gt;For hours I avoided Marius. I would never be forgiven! Then I went out into the&lt;br /&gt;garden. I discovered Marius was grieving, and when he looked up, I realized that&lt;br /&gt;he had been utterly convinced that I meant to go off with Flavius. When I saw&lt;br /&gt;this, I took him in my arms. He was full of quiet relief and love; he forgave me&lt;br /&gt;at once for my “absolute rashness."&lt;br /&gt;“Don't you see,” I said, taking him in hand, “that I adore you? But you cannot&lt;br /&gt;rule over me! Can you not consider in your reasonable fashion that the greatest&lt;br /&gt;part of our gift eludes you – it's the freedom from the confines of male,&lt;br /&gt;female!"&lt;br /&gt;“You can’t convince me,” he said, “for one moment that you don’t feel, reason&lt;br /&gt;and act in the manner of a woman. We both loved Flavius. But why another blood&lt;br /&gt;drinker?”&lt;br /&gt;“I don’t know except that Flavius wanted it, Flavius knew all about our secrets,&lt;br /&gt;there was a... an understanding between me and Flavius! He had been loyal in the&lt;br /&gt;darkest hours of my mortal life. Oh, I can’t explain it.”&lt;br /&gt;“A woman s sentiments, exactly. And you have launched this creature into&lt;br /&gt;eternity.”&lt;br /&gt;“He joins our search,” I replied.&lt;br /&gt;About the middle of the century, when the city was very rich and the Empire was&lt;br /&gt;about as peaceful as it was ever going to be for the next two hundred years, the&lt;br /&gt;Christian Paul came to Antioch.&lt;br /&gt;I went to hear him speak one night and came home, saying casually that the man&lt;br /&gt;could convert the very stones to this faith, such was his personal power.&lt;br /&gt;“How can you spend your time on such things!” Marius demanded. "Christians. They&lt;br /&gt;aren’t even a cult! Some worship John, some worship Jesus. They fight amongst&lt;br /&gt;one another! Don't you see what this man Paul has done?”&lt;br /&gt;"No, what?” I said. “I didn’t say I was going to join the sect. I only said I&lt;br /&gt;stopped to hear him. Who is hurt by that?"&lt;br /&gt;"You, your mind, your equilibrium, your common sense. It’s compromised by the&lt;br /&gt;foolish things in which you take an interest, and frankly the principle of truth&lt;br /&gt;is hurt!” He had only just begun.&lt;br /&gt;“Let me tell you about this man Paul,” Marius said. “He never knew either the&lt;br /&gt;Baptizer John or the Galilean Jesus, The Hebrews have thrown him out of the&lt;br /&gt;group. Jesus and John were both Hebrews! And so Paul has now turned to everyone.&lt;br /&gt;Jew and Christian alike, and Roman and Greek, and said, ‘You needn’t follow the&lt;br /&gt;Hebrew observance. Forget the Feasts in Jerusalem. Forget Circumcision. Become a&lt;br /&gt;Christian.’ ”&lt;br /&gt;“Yes, that is true,” I said with a sigh.&lt;br /&gt;"It’s a very easy religion to take up,” he said. “It’s nothing. You have to&lt;br /&gt;believe that this man rose from the Dead. And by the way, I've combed the&lt;br /&gt;available texts which are floating all over the marketplaces. Have you?"&lt;br /&gt;“No. I’m surprised you’ve found this search worthy of your time.”&lt;br /&gt;“I don’t see anywhere in the writings of those who knew John and Jesus where&lt;br /&gt;these two are quoted as saying either one of them will rise from the Dead, or&lt;br /&gt;that all who believe in them will have life after death. Paul added all that.&lt;br /&gt;What an enticing promise! And you should hear your friend, Paul, on the subject&lt;br /&gt;of Hell! What a cruel vision – that flawed mortals could sin in this life so&lt;br /&gt;grievously that they would burn for all eternity."&lt;br /&gt;“He's not my friend. You make so much of my passing remarks. Why do you feel so&lt;br /&gt;strongly?"&lt;br /&gt;“I told you, I care about what is true, what is reasonable!”&lt;br /&gt;“Well, there’s something you’re missing about this group of Christians, some way&lt;br /&gt;in which when they come together they share a euphoric love and they believe in&lt;br /&gt;great generosity –”&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, not again! And are you to tell me this is good'?”&lt;br /&gt;I didn’t answer.&lt;br /&gt;He was returning to his work when I spoke.&lt;br /&gt;“You fear me,” I said to him. “You fear that I'll be swept off my feet by&lt;br /&gt;somebody of belief and abandon you. No. No, that’s not right. You fear that you&lt;br /&gt;will be swept up. That the world will somehow entice you back into it, so that&lt;br /&gt;you won’t live here with me, the superior Roman observer recluse, anymore, but&lt;br /&gt;go back, seeking mortal comforts of companionship and proximity to others,&lt;br /&gt;friendship with mortals, their recognition of you as one of them when you are&lt;br /&gt;not one of them!”&lt;br /&gt;“Pandora, you talk gibberish.”&lt;br /&gt;“Keep your proud secrets," I said. “But I do fear for you, that I will admit.“&lt;br /&gt;“Fear for me? And why?” he demanded.&lt;br /&gt;"Because you don't realize everything perishes, everything is artifice! That&lt;br /&gt;even logic and mathematics and justice have no ultimate meaning!”&lt;br /&gt;“That's not true,” he said.&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, yes it is. Some night will come when you will see what I saw, when I first&lt;br /&gt;came to Antioch, before you’d found me, before this transformation which should&lt;br /&gt;have swept away everything in its path.&lt;br /&gt;“You will see a darkness," I went on, “a darkness so total that Nature never&lt;br /&gt;knows it anywhere on Earth at any time, in any place! Only the human soul can&lt;br /&gt;know it. And it goes on forever. And I pray that when you finally can no longer&lt;br /&gt;escape from it, when you realize it is all around you, that your logic and your&lt;br /&gt;reason give you some strength against it."&lt;br /&gt;He gave me the most respectful look. But he didn’t speak. I continued:&lt;br /&gt;“Resignation will do you no good," I said, "when such a time comes. Resignation&lt;br /&gt;requires will, and will requires decision, and decision requires belief, and&lt;br /&gt;belief requires that there is something to believe in! And all action or&lt;br /&gt;acceptance requires a concept of a witness! Well, there is nothing, and there&lt;br /&gt;are no witnesses! You don’t know that yet, but I do. I hope, when you find it&lt;br /&gt;out, someone can comfort you as you dress and groom those monstrous relics below&lt;br /&gt;the stairs! As you bring their flowers!" I was so angry. I went on:&lt;br /&gt;“Look back on me when this moment comes – if not for forgiveness, look back on&lt;br /&gt;me as a model. For I have seen this, and I have survived. And it matters not&lt;br /&gt;that I stopped to listen to Paul preach of Christ, or that I weave flowers into&lt;br /&gt;crowns for the Queen, or that I dance like a fool under the moon in the garden&lt;br /&gt;before dawn, or that I... that I love you. It matters not. Because there is&lt;br /&gt;nothing. And no one to see. No one!” I sighed. It was time to finish.&lt;br /&gt;“Go back to your history, this stack of lies that tries to link event to event&lt;br /&gt;with cause and effect, this preposterous faith that postulates that one thing&lt;br /&gt;follows from another. I tell you, it’s not so. But it is very Roman of you to&lt;br /&gt;think so.”&lt;br /&gt;He sat silent looking up at me. I couldn't tell what his thoughts were or what&lt;br /&gt;his heart felt. Then he asked:&lt;br /&gt;"What would you have me do?” He had never looked more innocent.&lt;br /&gt;Bitterly, I laughed. Did we not speak the same language? He heard not one word I&lt;br /&gt;had uttered. Yet he presented me not with a reply, but only with this simple&lt;br /&gt;question.&lt;br /&gt;"All right," I said. “I’ll tell you what I want. Love me, Marius, love me, but&lt;br /&gt;leave me alone!” I cried out. I had not even thought. The words just came.&lt;br /&gt;"Leave me alone, so that I may seek my own comforts, my own means to remain&lt;br /&gt;alive, no matter how foolish or pointless these comforts appear to you. Leave me&lt;br /&gt;alone!"&lt;br /&gt;He was wounded, so uncomprehending, looking so innocent still.&lt;br /&gt;We had many similar arguments as the decades passed.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes he would come to me after; he would fall into long thoughtful talks&lt;br /&gt;about what he felt was happening with the Empire, how the Emperors were going&lt;br /&gt;mad and the Senate had no power, how the very progress of man was unique in&lt;br /&gt;Nature and something to be watched. How he would crave life, he thought, until&lt;br /&gt;there was no more life.&lt;br /&gt;“Even if there is nothing left but desert waste," he said, “I should want to be&lt;br /&gt;there, to see dune folding upon dune,” he went on. "If there was but one lamp&lt;br /&gt;left in all the world, I’d want to watch its flame. And so would you.”&lt;br /&gt;But the terms of the battle, and its heat, never really changed.&lt;br /&gt;At heart he thought I hated him for having been so unkind on the night I was&lt;br /&gt;given the Dark Blood. I told him this was childish. I could not convince him&lt;br /&gt;that my soul and my intelligence were infinitely too large for such a simple&lt;br /&gt;grudge, and that I owed him no explanation for my thoughts, words and deeds.&lt;br /&gt;For two hundred years, we lived and loved together. He became ever more&lt;br /&gt;beautiful to me.&lt;br /&gt;As more and more barbarians from the North and from the East poured into the&lt;br /&gt;city, he felt no necessity to dress like a Roman anymore, and frequently wore&lt;br /&gt;the jeweled clothes of the Easterners. His hair seemed to be growing finer,&lt;br /&gt;lighter. He seldom cut it, which of course he would have had to do every night&lt;br /&gt;had he wanted it short. It was a splendor on his shoulders.&lt;br /&gt;As his face grew ever more smooth, away went the few lines that could so easily&lt;br /&gt;design anger in his expression. As I’ve told you before, he greatly resembles&lt;br /&gt;Lestat. Only he is more compact of build, and jaw and chin had hardened just a&lt;br /&gt;little more with age before the Dark Gift. But the unwanted folds were receding&lt;br /&gt;from his eyes.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes for nights on end, in fear of a fight, we didn’t speak. There was&lt;br /&gt;between us always a continuous physical affection – embraces, kisses, sometimes&lt;br /&gt;the mere silent lock of our hands.&lt;br /&gt;But we knew we had now lived far beyond a normal human life span.&lt;br /&gt;You need from me no detailed history of that remarkable time. It is too well&lt;br /&gt;known. Only let me place here a few reminders. Only let me describe for you my&lt;br /&gt;perspective on the changes happening all over the Empire.&lt;br /&gt;Antioch as a thriving city proved indestructible. The Emperors began to favor it&lt;br /&gt;and visit it. More Temples went up to the Eastern cults. And then Christians of&lt;br /&gt;all kinds poured into Antioch.&lt;br /&gt;Indeed, the Christians of Antioch comprised at last an immense and fascinating&lt;br /&gt;bunch of people arguing with each other.&lt;br /&gt;Rome went to war on the Jews, crushing Jerusalem completely and destroying the&lt;br /&gt;sacred Hebrew Temple. Many brilliant Jewish thinkers came to Antioch as well as&lt;br /&gt;Alexandria.&lt;br /&gt;Twice or perhaps even three times, Roman legions pushed past us, North of us,&lt;br /&gt;into Parthia; once we even had a little rebellion of our own, but Rome always&lt;br /&gt;resecured the city of Antioch. So the market closed for a day! On went the&lt;br /&gt;trade, the great lust of the caravans for the ships, and of the ships for the&lt;br /&gt;caravans, and Antioch was the bed in which they must wed each other.&lt;br /&gt;There was little new poetry. Satire. Satire seemed the only safe or honest&lt;br /&gt;expression of the Roman mind now, and so we had the riotously funny story The&lt;br /&gt;Golden Ass, by Apuleius, which seemed to make fun of every religion. But there&lt;br /&gt;was a bitterness to the poet Martial. And those letters of Pliny which reached&lt;br /&gt;me were full of dire judgments on the moral chaos of Rome.&lt;br /&gt;I began as a vampire to feed exclusively on soldiers. I liked them, their look,&lt;br /&gt;their strength. I fed so much so on them, that in my carelessness, I became a&lt;br /&gt;legend amongst them, "The Greek Lady Death,” this on account of my clothes which&lt;br /&gt;to them appeared archaic. I struck at random in the dark streets. There wasn’t a&lt;br /&gt;chance of their ever surrounding me or stopping me, so great was my skill, my&lt;br /&gt;strength and my thirst.&lt;br /&gt;But I saw things in their rebellious deaths, the blaze of a pitched battle in a&lt;br /&gt;march, a hand-to-hand struggle on a steep mountain. I took them down gently into&lt;br /&gt;the finish, filling myself to the brim with their blood, and sometimes, through&lt;br /&gt;a veil it seemed, I saw the souls of those whom they themselves had slain.&lt;br /&gt;When I told Marius this, he said it was just the kind of mystical nonsense he&lt;br /&gt;would expect of me.&lt;br /&gt;I didn't press the point.&lt;br /&gt;He watched with keen interest the developments of Rome. To me they seemed merely&lt;br /&gt;surprising.&lt;br /&gt;He pored over the histories of Dio Cassius and Plutarch and Tacitus, and pounded&lt;br /&gt;his fist when he heard of the endless skirmishes on the Rhine River, and the&lt;br /&gt;push Northward into Britannia and the building of Hadrian’s wall to forever keep&lt;br /&gt;away the Scots, who like the Germans would yield to no one.&lt;br /&gt;"They are not patrolling, preserving, containing an Empire any longer," he said.&lt;br /&gt;“Conserving a way of life! It's just war, and trade!”&lt;br /&gt;I couldn’t disagree.&lt;br /&gt;It was really even worse than he knew. If he had gone as often as I did to&lt;br /&gt;listen to the philosophers he would have been appalled.&lt;br /&gt;Magicians were appearing everywhere, claiming to be able to fly, to see visions,&lt;br /&gt;to heal with the laying on of hands! They got into battles with the Christians&lt;br /&gt;and the Jews. I don’t think the Roman army paid them any attention.&lt;br /&gt;Medicine as I had known it in my mortal life had been flooded with a river of&lt;br /&gt;Eastern secret formulae, amulets, rituals, and little statues to clutch.&lt;br /&gt;Well over half the Senate was no longer Italian by birth. This meant that our&lt;br /&gt;Rome was no longer our Rome. And the title of Emperor had become a joke. There&lt;br /&gt;were so many assassinations, plots, squabbles, false emperors and palace coups&lt;br /&gt;that it soon became perfectly clear that the Army ruled. The Army chose the&lt;br /&gt;Emperor. The Army sustained him.&lt;br /&gt;The Christians were divided into warring sects. It was positively astonishing.&lt;br /&gt;The religion didn’t burn itself out in dispute. It gained strength in division.&lt;br /&gt;Occasional furious persecutions – in which people were executed for not&lt;br /&gt;worshiping at Roman altars – only seemed to deepen the sympathy of the populace&lt;br /&gt;with this new cult.&lt;br /&gt;And the new cult was rampant with debate on every principle with regard to the&lt;br /&gt;Jews, God and Jesus.&lt;br /&gt;The most amazing thing had happened to this religion. Spreading wildly on fast&lt;br /&gt;ships, good roads and well-maintained trade routes, it suddenly found itself in&lt;br /&gt;a peculiar position. The world had not come to an end, as Jesus and Paul had&lt;br /&gt;predicted.&lt;br /&gt;And everybody who had ever known or seen Jesus was dead. Finally everyone who&lt;br /&gt;had ever known Paul was dead.&lt;br /&gt;Christian philosophers arose, picking and choosing from old Greek ideas and old&lt;br /&gt;Hebrew traditions.&lt;br /&gt;Justin of Athens wrote that Christ was the Logos; you could be an atheist and&lt;br /&gt;still be saved in Christ if you upheld reason.&lt;br /&gt;I had to tell this to Marius.&lt;br /&gt;I thought sure it would set him off, and the night was dull, but he merely&lt;br /&gt;countered with more out-landish talk of the Gnostics.&lt;br /&gt;“A man named Saturninus popped up in the Forum today,” he said. “Perhaps you&lt;br /&gt;heard talk of him. He preaches a wild variant of this Christian creed you find&lt;br /&gt;so amusing, in which the God of the Hebrews is actually the Devil and Jesus the&lt;br /&gt;new God. This was not the man’s first appearance. He and his followers, thanks&lt;br /&gt;to the local Christian Bishop Ignatius, are headed for Alexandria.”&lt;br /&gt;“There are books with those ideas already here,” I said, “having come from&lt;br /&gt;Alexandria. They are impenetrable to me. Perhaps not to you. They speak of&lt;br /&gt;Sophia, a female principle of Wisdom, which preceded the Creation. Jews and&lt;br /&gt;Christians alike want somehow to include this concept of Sophia in their faith.&lt;br /&gt;It so reminds me of our beloved Isis."&lt;br /&gt;“Your beloved Isis!” he said.&lt;br /&gt;“It seems that there are minds who would weave it all together, every myth, or&lt;br /&gt;its essence, to make a glorious tapestry.”&lt;br /&gt;“Pandora, you are making me ill again,” he warned. “Let me tell you what your&lt;br /&gt;Christians are doing. They are tightly organizing. This Bishop Ignatius will be&lt;br /&gt;followed by another, and the Bishops want to lay down now that the age of&lt;br /&gt;private revelation had ended; they want to weed through all the mad scrolls on&lt;br /&gt;the market and make a canon which all Christians believe."&lt;br /&gt;"I never thought such could happen,” I said. “I agreed with you more than you&lt;br /&gt;knew when you condemned them.”&lt;br /&gt;"They are succeeding because they are moving away from emotional morality,” he&lt;br /&gt;said. “They are organizing like Romans. This Bishop Ignatius is very strict. He&lt;br /&gt;delegates power. He pronounced on the accuracy of manuscripts. Notice the&lt;br /&gt;prophets are getting thrown out of Antioch."&lt;br /&gt;“Yes, you're right,” I said. “What do you thinks Is it good or bad'?”&lt;br /&gt;“I want the world to be better,” he said. “Better for men and women. Better.&lt;br /&gt;Only one thing is dear: the old blood drinkers have by now died out, and there&lt;br /&gt;is nothing you or I, or the Queen and the King can do to interfere in the flow&lt;br /&gt;of human events. I believe men and women must try harder. I try to understand&lt;br /&gt;evil ever more deeply with any victim I take.&lt;br /&gt;“Any religion that makes fanatical claims and demands on the basis of a god’s&lt;br /&gt;will frightens me.”&lt;br /&gt;“You are a true Augustan,” I said. “I agree with you, but it is fun to read&lt;br /&gt;these mad Gnostics. This Marcion and this Valentinus.”&lt;br /&gt;“Fun for you perhaps. I see danger everywhere. This new Christianity, it isn't&lt;br /&gt;merely spreading, it’s changing in each place as it spreads; it’s like an animal&lt;br /&gt;which devours the local flora and fauna and then takes on some specific power&lt;br /&gt;from the food.”&lt;br /&gt;I didn’t argue with him.&lt;br /&gt;By the end of the second century, Antioch was a heavily Christian city. And it&lt;br /&gt;seemed to me as I read the works of new Bishops and philosophers that worse&lt;br /&gt;things than Christianity could come upon us.&lt;br /&gt;Realize, however, David, that Antioch did not lie under a cloud of decay; there&lt;br /&gt;was no sense in the air of the end of the Empire. If anything there was bustling&lt;br /&gt;energy everywhere. Commerce gives one this feel, that false sense that there is&lt;br /&gt;growth and creativity, perhaps, when there is none. Things are exchanged, not&lt;br /&gt;necessarily improved.&lt;br /&gt;Then came the dark time for us. Two forces came together which bore down on&lt;br /&gt;Marius, straining all his courage. Antioch was more interesting than it had ever&lt;br /&gt;been.&lt;br /&gt;The Mother and the Father had never stirred since the first night of my coming!&lt;br /&gt;Let me describe the first disaster, because for me it was not so hard to bear,&lt;br /&gt;and I had only sympathy for Marius.&lt;br /&gt;As I've told you, the question of who was Emperor had become a joke. But it&lt;br /&gt;really became a howl with the events of the early 200s.&lt;br /&gt;The Emperor of the moment was Caracalla, a regular murderer. On a pilgrimage to&lt;br /&gt;Alexandria to see the remains of Alexander the Great, he had – for reasons no&lt;br /&gt;one knows even now – rounded up thousands of young Alexandrians and slaughtered&lt;br /&gt;them. Alexandria had never seen such a massacre.&lt;br /&gt;Marius was distraught. All the world was distraught.&lt;br /&gt;Marius spoke of leaving Antioch,. of getting far far away from the ruin of the&lt;br /&gt;Empire. I began to agree with him.&lt;br /&gt;Then this revolting Emperor Caracalla marched in our direction, intending to&lt;br /&gt;make a war on the Parthians North of us and to the East of us. Nothing out of&lt;br /&gt;the ordinary for Antioch!&lt;br /&gt;His Mother – and you need not remember these names – Julia Domna, took up&lt;br /&gt;residence in Antioch. She was dying from cancer of her breast. And let me add&lt;br /&gt;here that this woman had, with her son Caracalla, helped murder her other son,&lt;br /&gt;Geta, because the two brothers had been sharing Imperial power and threatening&lt;br /&gt;to make a Civil War.&lt;br /&gt;Let me continue, and again you need not remember the names.&lt;br /&gt;Troops were massed for this Eastern war against two Kings to the East, Vologases&lt;br /&gt;the Fifth and Artabanus the Fifth. Caracalla did make war, achieve victory and&lt;br /&gt;return in triumph. Then, only miles from Antioch, he was assassinated by his own&lt;br /&gt;soldiers while trying to relieve himself!&lt;br /&gt;All this cast Marius in a hopeless frame of mind. For hours he sat in the Shrine&lt;br /&gt;staring at the Mother and the Father. I felt I knew what he was thinking, that&lt;br /&gt;we should immolate ourselves and them, but I couldn't bear the thought of it. I&lt;br /&gt;didn’t want to die. I didn’t want to lose life. I didn’t want to lose Marius.&lt;br /&gt;I did not care so much about the fate of Rome. Life still stretched before me,&lt;br /&gt;extending the promise of wonders.&lt;br /&gt;Back to the Comedy. The Army promptly made an Emperor out of a man from the&lt;br /&gt;Provinces named Macrinus, who was a Moor and wore an earring in his ear.&lt;br /&gt;He at once had a fight with the dead Emperor's Mother, Julia Domna, because he&lt;br /&gt;wouldn’t allow her to leave Antioch to die elsewhere. She starved herself to&lt;br /&gt;death.&lt;br /&gt;This was all too dose to home! These lunatics were in our city, not far away in&lt;br /&gt;a capital which we mourned.&lt;br /&gt;Then war broke out again, because the Eastern Kings, who were caught off guard&lt;br /&gt;before by Caracalla, were now ready, and Macrinus had to lead the Legions into&lt;br /&gt;battle.&lt;br /&gt;As I told you, the Legions now controlled everything. Somebody should have told&lt;br /&gt;Macrinus. Instead of fighting he bought off the enemy. The troops were hardly&lt;br /&gt;proud of this. And then he cracked down on them, taking away some of their&lt;br /&gt;benefits.&lt;br /&gt;He didn’t seem to grasp that he had to maintain their approval to survive.&lt;br /&gt;Though of course what good had this done for Caracalla, whom they loved?&lt;br /&gt;Whatever, the sister of Julia Domna, named Julia Maesa, who was a Syrian and of&lt;br /&gt;a family dedicated to the Syrian sun god, seized this dreary moment in the life&lt;br /&gt;of the lusty legions to put her grandson, born of Julia Soemis, in power as&lt;br /&gt;Emperor! It was an outrageous plan actually, for any number of reasons. First&lt;br /&gt;and foremost, all three Julias were Syrian. The boy himself was fourteen years&lt;br /&gt;old, and also he was a hereditary Priest of the Syrian sun god.&lt;br /&gt;But somehow or other Julia Maesa and her daughter's lover, Gannys, managed to&lt;br /&gt;convince a bunch of soldiers in a tent that this fourteen-year-old Syrian boy&lt;br /&gt;should become the Emperor of Rome.&lt;br /&gt;The Army deserted the Imperial Macrinus, and he and his son were hunted down and&lt;br /&gt;murdered.&lt;br /&gt;So, high on the shoulders of proud soldiers rode this fourteen-year-old boy! But&lt;br /&gt;he didn’t want to be called by his Roman name. He wanted to be called by the&lt;br /&gt;name of the god he worshiped in Syria, Elagabalus. The very presence of him in&lt;br /&gt;Antioch shook the nerves of all citizens. At last, he and three remaining Julias&lt;br /&gt;– his aunt, his Mother and his grandmother, all of them Syrian Priestesses –&lt;br /&gt;left Antioch.&lt;br /&gt;In Nicomedia, which was very near to us, Elagabalus murdered his Mother’s lover.&lt;br /&gt;So who was left? He also picked up an enormous sacred black stone and brought it&lt;br /&gt;back to Rome, saying that this stone was sacred to the Syrian sun god, whom all&lt;br /&gt;must now worship.&lt;br /&gt;He was gone, across the sea, but it took sometimes no more than eleven days for&lt;br /&gt;a letter to reach Antioch from Rome, and soon there were rampant rumors. Who&lt;br /&gt;will ever know the truth about him?&lt;br /&gt;Elagabalus. He built a Temple for the stone on the Palatine Hill. He made Romans&lt;br /&gt;stand around in Phoenician gowns while he slaughtered cattle and sheep in&lt;br /&gt;sacrifice.&lt;br /&gt;He begged the physicians to try to transform him into a woman by creating a&lt;br /&gt;proper opening between his legs. Romans were horrified by this. At night he&lt;br /&gt;dressed as a woman, complete with a wig, and went prowling taverns.&lt;br /&gt;All over the Empire the soldiers started to riot.&lt;br /&gt;Even the three Julias, grandmother Julia Maesa, his aunt Julia Domna, and his&lt;br /&gt;own Mother, Julia Soemis, started to get sick of him. After four years, four&lt;br /&gt;years, mind you, of this maniac’s rule, the soldiers killed him and threw his&lt;br /&gt;body in the Tiber.&lt;br /&gt;It did not seem to Marius that there was anything left of the world we had once&lt;br /&gt;called Rome. And he was thoroughly sick of all the Christians in Antioch, their&lt;br /&gt;fights over doctrine. He found all mystery religions dangerous now. He served up&lt;br /&gt;this lunatic Emperor as a perfect example of the fanaticism gaining ground in&lt;br /&gt;the times.&lt;br /&gt;And he was right. He was right.&lt;br /&gt;It was all I could do to keep him from despair. In truth he had not yet&lt;br /&gt;confronted that terrible darkness I had once spoken of; he was far too agitated,&lt;br /&gt;far too irritated and quarrelsome. But I was very frightened for him, and hurt&lt;br /&gt;for him, and didn’t want him to see more darkly, as I did, to be more aloof,&lt;br /&gt;expecting nothing and almost smiling at the collapse of our Empire.&lt;br /&gt;Then the very worst thing happened, something we had both feared in one form or&lt;br /&gt;another. But it came upon us in the worst possible form.&lt;br /&gt;One night there appeared at our eternally open doors five blood drinkers.&lt;br /&gt;Neither of us had caught the sound of their approach. Lounging about with our&lt;br /&gt;books, we looked up to see these five, three women and a man and a boy, and to&lt;br /&gt;realize that all wore black garments. They were dressed like Christian hermits&lt;br /&gt;and ascetics who deny the flesh and starve themselves. Antioch had a whole&lt;br /&gt;passel of these men in the desert roundabouts.&lt;br /&gt;But these were blood drinkers.&lt;br /&gt;Dark of hair and eye, and dark of skin, they stood before us, their arms folded.&lt;br /&gt;Dark of skin, I thought quickly. They are young. They were made after the great&lt;br /&gt;burning. So what if there are five?&lt;br /&gt;They had in general rather attractive faces, wellshaped features and groomed&lt;br /&gt;eyebrows, and deep dark eyes, and all over them I saw the marks of their living&lt;br /&gt;bodies – tiny wrinkles next to their eyes, wrinkled around their knuckles.&lt;br /&gt;They seemed as shocked to see us as we were to see them. They stared at the&lt;br /&gt;brightly lighted library; they stared at our finery, which was in such contrast&lt;br /&gt;to their ascetic robes.&lt;br /&gt;“Well," said Marius, “who are you.”&lt;br /&gt;Cloaking my thoughts, I tried to probe theirs. Their minds were locked. They&lt;br /&gt;were dedicated to something. It had the very scent of fanaticism. I felt a&lt;br /&gt;horrid foreboding.&lt;br /&gt;They started timidly to enter the open door.&lt;br /&gt;"No, stop, please," said Marius in Greek “This is my house. Tell me who you are,&lt;br /&gt;and then I perhaps shall invite you over my threshold."&lt;br /&gt;“You’re Christians, aren’t you?” I said. “You have the zeal.”&lt;br /&gt;“We are!" said one in Greek. It was the man. "We are the scourge of humanity in&lt;br /&gt;the name of God and his son, Christ. We are the Children of Darkness.”&lt;br /&gt;“Who made you?” asked Marius.&lt;br /&gt;“We were made in a sacred cave and in our Temple,” said another, a woman,&lt;br /&gt;speaking in Greek also. “We know the truth of the Serpent, and his fangs are our&lt;br /&gt;fangs.”&lt;br /&gt;I limbed to my feet and moved towards Marius.&lt;br /&gt;“We thought you would be in Rome,” said the young man. He had short black hair,&lt;br /&gt;and very round innocent eyes. “Because the Christian Bishop of Rome is now&lt;br /&gt;supreme among Christians and the theology of Antioch is no longer of great&lt;br /&gt;matter.”&lt;br /&gt;“Why would we be in Rome'?" asked Marius. “What is the Roman Bishop to us?"&lt;br /&gt;The woman took the fore. Her hair was severely parted in the middle but her face&lt;br /&gt;was very regal and regular. She had in particular beautifully defined lips.&lt;br /&gt;"Why do you hide from us? We have heard of you for years! We know that you know&lt;br /&gt;things – about us and where the Dark Gift came from, that you know how God put&lt;br /&gt;it into the world, and that you saved our kind from extinction."&lt;br /&gt;Marius was plainly horrified, but gave little sign of it.&lt;br /&gt;“I have nothing to tell you,” he said, perhaps too hastily. “Except I do not&lt;br /&gt;believe in your God or your Christ and I do not believe God put the Dark Gift,&lt;br /&gt;as you call it, into the world. You have made a terrible mistake."&lt;br /&gt;They were highly skeptical and utterly dedicated.&lt;br /&gt;"You have almost reached salvation,” said another, the boy at the far end of the&lt;br /&gt;line, whose hair was unshorn and hung to his shoulders. He had a manly voice,&lt;br /&gt;but his limbs were small. “You have almost reached the point where you are so&lt;br /&gt;strong and white and pure that you need not drink!"&lt;br /&gt;“Would that that were true, it's not,” said Marius.&lt;br /&gt;“Why don't you welcome us?” asked the boy. “Why don’t you guide us and teach us&lt;br /&gt;that we may better spread the Dark Blood, and punish mortals for their sins! We&lt;br /&gt;are pure of heart. We were chosen. Each of us went into the cave bravely and&lt;br /&gt;there the dying devil, a crushed creature of blood and bone, cast out of Heaven&lt;br /&gt;in a blaze of fire, passed on to us his teachings.”&lt;br /&gt;“Which were what?” asked Marius.&lt;br /&gt;“Make them suffer,” the woman said. “Bring death. Eschew all 
