CHAPTER XXIV

XXIV

Not only were they the puzzled ones. Even I felt my own skin alien to myself. Apart from that indelible fragrance of resins and herbs which would probably remain under my skin pores in the years to come, maybe giving out some kind of….breath?...which could be almost inebriating to anyone nearby… and that bewilderment, rarely lucid and enlightened, which came over me from time to time, more and more often…I knew it wouldn’t be wise to go out, In fact, except that getaway with Kornel from a few days before, I had always remained cloistered there. Perhaps this was what I had been bound to from the beginning,,, Only that it had acquired a new sense : Calpurnia’s realm, occult, close except for a few chosen ones…Was this also the one that must belong to the Wise Queen, whose aim is to neutralize the incarnated Goddess?

–Calpurnia….

Kornel, once again, had taken off the hat which veiled his face, something that he wouldn’t have needed since he had arrived in Cornelia’s litter. He had found out what time of the day would be more suitable to get here without the risk of meeting any vestal either next to my rooms or at the entrance of Domus Publica. He was aware of which precautions to take now that Antonius….

–He must be thoroughly enjoying it all. No wonder, Calpurnia…. Once again I beg you excuse my brutal frankness but I deeply know this new race of Roman patrician that recent history has brought us and I can see it crystal clear: in a short time Rome will be transformed into a big circus. Wasn’t it enough, all that endless succession of games and shows which politicians like your husband himself have given us? And this is only the beginning: I know, don’t ask me why, I simply know that perhaps in a hundred years or maybe fewer, there will be individuals who will hold as much power as your husband – though this may be difficult for you to believe – in spite of the fact that the old republican system of magistrates remains. They will be influential enough to transform Rome into…a whorehouse. Do not tremble, Calpurnia. This is no more than a logical consequence of what we see today… Not to mention that ceaseless increasing violence. During hundreds of years all those who wield power over Rome will be killed … and perhaps, over one thousand years later, when our city faces a totally different world, the circus will return… But I do not blame your husband or the ones who will come after him. As you can imagine, it has all been the consequence of a continuous outwearing: only characters like Cato represent a testimony of true solid Rome…And many Romans know this.

Unlike my friends, he did not seem to be amazed by my new countenance. Perhaps this was what he was looking for…What would be the next step to take?

–Do not pay heed to Antonius: he is too concentrated in his enthusiasm… and himself. Neither must you get obsessed about your honour, Calpurnia… I do not think he might have permanent spies camouflaged in Porticus Margaritaria. However, I don’t deny that I should be cautious regarding my visits, even if I come with Cornelia.

I well knew that he could not speak openly with her around, though I had realized that she was aware of everything that had lately happened to me. Above all, I was eager for this war between Romans to finish at once and, consequently, for your return so as to scare away the danger of any kind of seduction alien to the natural resources used by any woman to blind a man, no matter if the seductress could be an incarnated goddess. Cornelia… perhaps was she on the verge of fainting….? She had remained silent and wax-like since her arrival… Kornel’s discreet looks at her showed that he was fully aware of that thing which was upsetting her… Eventually, seeing my eyes wide open, fixed on her wild ones, they saw themselves forced to speak out.

–Calpurnia, my little one… It might be one of so many rumours… The Magister Equitum hasn’t confirmed that yet. This makes us quite uneasy…. It has spread all over Palatine Hill and the Forum throughout the morning…

No, there was no need to go on trying to speak. An invisible shroud-like mist, the same that was blurring all the hills, had made its way though the walls of Domus Publica. Through it, Kornel and Cornelia were no more than ill-defined figures, speaking without words, scrutinizing my look that I felt void….

–No, no, no… I have never forgotten to renew my vow to Bona Dea, you know that, Cornelia… Bellona’s temple!…Was it… perhaps… an omen?

Kornel was trying not to answer that question…Yes…. No, no… Would you have ended up like Pompeius? One more victim of court intrigues in Alexandria?...Some sour thick outburst blurred my senses amidst my heaves…

One of my servants –I couldn’t make out which one –- was despoiling me of that wet sticky tunic.

- Domina…Lady Cornelia says that you must stay in bed … and has insisted on being driven to the kitchen itself.

And there she was again, making me swallow that brewing made with several kinds of leaves and flowers which she had managed to improvise before the startled eyes of those servants who had never seen one of their masters within their realm. My good Cornelia, always so determined to ignore what is proper for a patrician in order to get her purposes.

–My darling one… I’ll remain by your side the rest of the day. Kornel has decided that the wisest thing for him to do is to go away. My litter will be returned in its due time.

–Cornelia… what am I meant to do if…? Should I send for my father…?

–Well … if this is so important…. Why should you?

–Lucius Calpurnius Piso is…. the keeper of …. Caesar’s will…It is kept at the Vestals’. As his father-in-law… he must deliver ….his funeral speech….

– Calpurnia!!!!!

CHAPTER XXIII

XXIII

Despite Antonius’ hovering shadow and the consequences that all those consciously experienced sensations might cause on myself, that night I shut myself into my room, when feeble moonlight was a little more intense. Again the same repelling drive against that sour-and-sweet scent…. Would I really resist it to the end? Anointed on those red golden beads around my neck which fell over my waist, that soft crystallized glow merging into that liquid note torn from the harp, echoing within that voice which could be mine, unfolded within myself, around me, whirling around my thoughts. Could I submit that nausea which was springing up? I decided to watch it, face to face, scrutinize that sour thing which was shaking through my throat , weakening me, making me feel like a coward, showing me how reduced and little I was… Nothing to do with New Alexander or that that divine force incarnated inside a queen who lived in the East of the Roman world. Definitively this made me think that I possessed some natural power which enabled me to look into the eyes of that quivering that which was shaking my own roots like a snake waving up through my life points , those power knots which I was trying to strengthen… That snake – a cobra? –had stood up in front of me, sneeringly “ Calpurnia, plain Calpurnia… who do you thing you can compete with? “…I remembered wisdom serpents Gallic priests always spoke about. This quietened me up. I tried to listen to it …. No… where was I? My voice was reverberating in the cubiculum, plucking that harp cord which gave a slightly higher note than that of the day before. I blinked and neatly saw my everyday surroundings. “Well… at least it hasn’t been such a traumatic experience!”

During the next days, as usual, I was visited by Marcia, Portia and Cornelia, who, with resignation, told me about that predictable speech which Antonius had delivered in front of still smoking remainders of what had been Bellona’s temple and how he had captivated all the people who crowded the surroundings.

–Well…He is no more than one more of their gang, Demagogy, you know, is contagious…A sort of invisible stream that starts flowing through Clodius, then Curio…and finally Marcus…

They stared at me, absorbed rather than silent. In their puzzlement they had noticed how my voice had been growing tinged with some rare undertones…Warm, even melodious, in sundry shades…multicoloured… Full moon had already flooded the cypresses and pines in the peristylium with its fertile light. Unlike what I had expected, the following steps of that learning –should I call it so? - did not mean any risky personal tribute. From the moment I started practising with topaz, I felt that this salty flow which used to take hold of my mind remained peaceful and while my voice and the notes from the harp were merging into a stream, some kind of serene deep consciousness through that yellow sparkle possessed me, not through clear-cut, well-defined images but through the certainty that I was really wise and had the power… or that at least I started to be like that. I kept watching that awareness of my own ability till the blackbirds renewed their daily dialogue one hour before dawn. And the next dusk, through jade and those notes which were becoming a little bit brighter, in my voice I discovered all that shaped my feelings, my ability to quiver, that immaterial beating which was parallel to that of my blood… and the following nights, while the womb of the moon was waxing, that potential Calpurnia who had lived by my side since I was begotten started showing herself. Finally, the day which was ruled by a plentiful, huge, pale purple moon…my amethysts became a sort of corpse whose slight transparency only partly invoked that dazzling life-generating force which had begotten the inner self of that one whose motherly, almost sibyl-like voice had reverberated within myself for a long time, and also the nature of those primeval beings who shared her nature…. And mine… That fruitful enlightening power which, depending on the place and time, could be called Tanit, Isis…. Ishtar…Tellus… Artemis… Keridwenn …. Rhiannon… Bona Dea…Magna Mater…. My voice was slipping off my fingers, which plucked the last string of my harp, ascending towards the perfume of those pines which had just been fruitful with ivory-like light … Were they shafts of amber-like, crimson, emerald-like, purple, iridescent force which, like immense birds, were fading away beyond that ruthlessly black sky sheltering Palatine Hill ….? It could have been real, the fact that my notes, like some energy beyond my fleshy self, would make me hover all over Rome, transcending it, ascending towards spheres beyond what’s tangible, strip myself from its topaz, sapphire or ruby sparkling and then, reduced to the nakedness of this most subtle harmony, merge into that invisible flow that has lived forever…? No, I couldn’t let myself be taken away …. No, you are no shadow which has been engulfed by that force of being lying beyond our understanding … You are a real woman who must… assert her own pride? Keep her man?

And a solid Calpurnia had sprung up, with a voice that had been modulated by rites… Calpurnia?... Am I still Calpurnilla? Marcia and Portia are discreetly looking at each other, puzzled by my intense sparkling eyes and the way my movements have become so paused and measured. Oh, Gods…I am intimidating them…. Is this the price to pay?

CHAPTER XXII

XXII

And, in fact, this was only the beginning.

–Bellona’s temple… that one which my father consecrated….

Cornelia’s stunned look seemed lost amidst her pale parchment-like face. She could hardly control her words.

–…. Nobody knows how…A real pyre, Calpurnia.

Yes, a funeral pyre… This was making me nervously tremble, though quite imperceptibly. The devastated temple which I once saw in my visions returned to my memories… And so did you, pouring blood all through your body, within my arms….

–Kornel … does he know…?

My voice went out, alien and mechanical.

– Everyone in Rome is hanging on…! Fortunately, Apollo’s temple is still standing… what does it all portend?

I told her what Kornel had warned me about destroyed Basilica Portia and Curia Hostilia.

– Yes, don’t discard the idea this might have a meaning: the rabble, mourning their indecent false leader’s execution, beating down what best represents Roman patricians’ solid values. Our Cato should have lived at my father’s time… However, who knows, maybe some kind of superior will might have chosen him to live in this age for a well-defined purpose: his lonely defence, amidst his inebriety and that pathetic bizarreness of his, of what many think is… ridiculous, unreal and utterly unpractical. Fortunately, our Marcia and Portia have shown themselves as loyal friends: it seems that Cato hasn’t learnt anything about my trading on wines (something unbearable of a Cornelia) Truly, Calpurnia, what I am doing is immensely good for many families throughout Roman world. Just remember what my situation was like: Milo was exiled and I needed to pay for bodyguards during all that time after Clodius; therefore I had to get a good amount of money to live as it suits our lineage. You know that I am no spendthrift, unlike so many families we both know but…. Neither do you ignore that I like treating my servants well. My father’s memory is enough to intimidate them. Not to mention Milo’s shadow… then I don’t need to use violence against them. On the other hand, there is so much need of manpower for our vineyards! As you can imagine, the villa has to be kept. You who have villae by the sea well know how that air carrying salt and ashes damages buildings …

All this exposure of reasons to justify her businesses made me think there was something else. However, I also had my own secrets and then I did not find it fair or fitting to scrutinize her privacy….

–By the way…I see you full of life, even…self-confident. Having dared….doing something you had never dared has positively helped you…. You are going to need it, Calpurnia…

Again the old quiver. She looked into my eyes understandingly, with that touch of tenderness proper of someone very close to you and old enough to be your mother .There was no need to say “You know that well, Calpurnia”. She silently embraced me and left.

I thought that it wouldn´t be fitting to go and see Bellona’s wreck, though one of my friends could have come with me in the litter…The rabble would be too excited and I decided that I should stay in my room , examining that gift brought by Kornel to Domus Publica. It was a string musical instrument, carved in some kind of smooth, almost ethereal fragrant wood, quite similar to that which Blodwynn once brought, though mine was not as capriciously shaped as hers. He had also given me a flask with whose contents – some kind of queasy, sticky-scented anointment – he told me to slightly smear both strings and frame. Likewise, inside a tiny agate arch, he showed me a collection of what might be small gems in seven gold threads, similar to pomegranate, carnelian, amber, jade, turquoise, beryl and amethyst. He told me to activate them with my following menses and then, for a week, I would anoint them with that balm, in the same way as I would do it on my instrument. Each day I would work on one string of beads, which I would put around my neck and, focusing my attention on the light which was being filtered through the tiny gems, I would rhythmically play one string , starting with the lowest one, setting my mind in that sound as deeply as in the sparkling of the gems , the first day I would use the pomegranate, the following day I would work on the carnelian and the string whose note was a bit less low than that of the previous day….and so on until the seventh day, dedicated to the amethyst and the highest notes. Obviously, this should be carried about at a time in which I would not be disturbed by anyone – not to mention the Vestals – at night and, if possible, when the moon was waxing. Why did he dare advising me that, knowing that I would have to do it alone and foreseeing that the consequences would be similar to my previous experiences? Nevertheless he knew that, encouraged after having got over my prejudices by wandering around Rome with a man in a litter, I was willing to take challenges which could lead me to gain what was essential to improve my existence… Yes, Kornel had come to know me so well… And, once finished my menses, the night I saw a thin, shiny curved line on that bit of sky that could be seen from the peristylium, after making sure that I was not going to be disturbed or heard by any vestal, I started to slowly anoint the tiny pomegranates with that acre musty balm, concentrating my attention on those bits of crystal like crystallized blood, as if raising a silent prayer to that motherly force that we call Bona Dea, Aphrodite, Tellus…among other names. Through that sombre red of the pomegranate, I also saw those flames that had devastated the temple dedicated to that motherly power which protected Roman warriors and the blood spilt by them and consecrated to it “Mother, Goddess…. I pray you that this won’t mean a foreseeing of his death… Save Rome from being devastated as it happened in the past. If you listen to my prayer, I shall convince him so that he will have your temple restored” Perhaps was this obsessive request getting mixed with my own voice, played like an instrument, constantly repeating that note which was being torn from a string of the harp. Merged into that sweetish repelling mist which was flooding my tongue and nostrils, my sight, my ears…?

I woke up in the middle of the night, feeling that taste brimming my throat and on the verge of vomiting. How on earth would I go on like that? Perhaps was it a plan that had been devised to test my resilience?

Which would be the outcome of all this? How would it all affect my health? Evidently, Kornel had a clear intention.

The morning after, when noon sunshine woke me up from the peristylium, one of the vestals broke into my cubiculum. Something alarming, no doubt, since never before had any of the girls dared intruding into my privacy so shamelessly.

–Domina…. Noble Marcus Antonius wishes to greet you and inform you about several things …. Excuse my ….behaviour. He has urged me to do so

Bloody… beast! From that moment I guessed how he would proceed years later. Even my father, in spite of his plebeian origin and all that has been said about him, has always considered Antonius one fine example of the filth proud Roman patricians have become. It relieves me, however, that all that Kornel has made me assimilate through queasiness, fears and strain might be useful to summon evil forces so that this former magister equitum of yours and that evil Eastern force, Isis’ incarnation, might be sacrificed in honour of the natural forces which veil for the good ruling of the peoples and propitiate the qualities that make lineages noble.

Luckily, he was wearing the toga when we met in the tablinium. Yes, what a relief that the folding didn´t let me see that nasty thick neck and that unpleasant volume of his muscles, though it is said that most Roman women, from all social levels… well, you know.

–Dear Calpurnia… I know that it is no vestal’s labour but…your husband hastily begged me to see you as soon as I arrived in Rome….

Despite all he might be, his expression did not show the attitude that other Roman patricians who share his views keep regarding the virgin keepers of the sacred fire, cunningly using them as they liked. But this was no moment to scrutinize my personal likings.

–Noble Marcus….But, then, my husband…?

–In Alexandria he commended me to keep order in Rome in his name…

“And controlling anything related to Caesar, including your family”, that was obvious.

–When he gets enough resources he will march on Northern Africa in order to suppress the only place which is still controlled by Cato and his followers…

He gave a long gaze throughout the room as if missing Marcia and Portia.

–The problem is that Egypt is still involved in a civil war, little King Ptolemy against his sister Cleopatra, who, as it is said, still has the ambition of ruling as a female Pharaoh in the ancient style of almost two thousand years ago…Then you can draw your own conclusions….

Gods, don’t let him see how pale I am growing inside! I almost saw his irony: no, he can’t know what I have guessed: only Kornel could….

–Which risks may all this mean …for him?

–The same as any other campaign o siege….except court intrigues that, as far as I know, are always present there in the East. Of course, your husband already knows…something, maybe quite a lot about those courts…It all depends on how far he means to go…That almost divinized pomp we lack in Rome is… such an attractive temptation for any ambitious Roman who is confident of his charisma…

Hateful, hateful, hateful… What does he mean by that? Why should he want to bring me down? Quite predictable, however, of the type of man who worships whores like those from gens Claudia and clever though shameless shrews like Fulvia but considers discreet decent Roman women as plain beings to sneer at. Gods, if only all this I have been through could be useful to put this kind of fellows where they should be!

–I must leave you, Calpurnia , as I have thought of letting myself be seen in front of Bellona’s temple in order to quieten down the rabble, warn them that the fire was no fateful omen and make them feel protected under my authority, as well as assure them that Caesar is safe and sound. You know I will constantly take interest on you, Calpurnia… I’m aware there is no man at home to veil over you.

–Thanks, Marcus… Anyway, my father often pays a visit. You know that my husband decided so, that he wouldn’t go to fight Pompeius so that he could be close to me…

He scrutinized my face slowly.

–By the way, the head of Gnaeus Pompeius Magnus was almost ceremoniously offered by Egyptian Great Chamberlain to your husband. As you can imagine, he did not like it at all…. Take care, Calpurnia.

CHAPTER XXI

XXI

I understood that it would be foolish to go on like this. Cloistered within that solitude y delivered to those rites which…really corresponded to a well-defined purpose beyond seeking for a way to quench my own anxiety. Yes, I was certainly aware of that. Long ago, maybe not so long…How interested could Kornel be in, let’s call it like this, my evolution intended as a work to keep you near? I began understanding that he might be trying to pay a sort of old debt. Was I, then, a pawn for him in the same way as I played that role both for my father and you? The only obvious way out for me would be to take profit of all this, not only considering the interests that had moved me up till then. Could this then gain me some ascendancy among Roman aristocrats… and so make up a party against you? What could be the use of all that? After Pharsalus we knew that nobody could rival you. Furthermore, how on earth would I gain some influence through that mess of rites, anointments, visions….? What could this mean for my father, so aware of his fragile reputation due both to his lack of real Patrician roots and Cicero`s accusations, still lingering around? Was I doomed to this isolation that has suddenly become a sort of crossroads?

–Cornelia, I need Kornel to get in touch with me. No, it does not matter what it takes. When my husband returns, I will suggest him… devoting a temple to Venus Felix here in Rome. Yes, apart from the temple which was erected in memory of the Goddess who begot her lineage there would also be another one dedicated to that face of the Goddess to which your own father commended himself. Cornelia, please….

For the first time in all this time we have known each her look was both thoughtful and alarmed. Had I admitted something that should not have been disclosed? Why had my foolish impatience prompted me to mention that idea regarding Venus Felix temple? Sure, I am no more than a useless dunce.

–Calpurnia, please, don’t get so excited. What… do you really want of him? I personally think that this ointment he recommended you has done you no good. It is true that not everybody can be allowed to experience any kind of rites. Anyway, I will see how to put you in contact with him without the need of meeting at Cumae. What about your father’s villa at Pompeii? Remember, you have insisted on it. It is not convenient that he may turn up here (You are not….like my daughter) However, it is a pity: he would love to visit Domus Publica. When he saw it again after so many years, he was shocked by Caesar’s transformations on it. In the past there was neither this impressive flight of stairs nor the Vestals’ gallery. In fact, he could only recognize Villa Publica, Tabullarium, Circus Maximus, Jupiter Capitolinus’ temple, Bellona’s temple…and few things more. Yes, Pompeius has changed so many things in Rome…. Anyway, I must be cautious regarding Pompeii. Don’t forget many well-known families have also their villae there…

I was then aware that I was really looking forward to meeting Kornel in Rome, walking around the Forum, Palatine and Capitoline Hills by his side, examining his emotion in his eyes while remembering what once used to stand here and there… Should it be wise of me to get involved in such private affairs? Did I have the right to it?

–I guess you will have the courage to do so. I know you will.

In the centre of my room, watching my frightened amazement, he had taken off that hat which veiled his face all over.

–Don´t worry, Calpurnia. The distribution of rooms in Domus Publica makes it unthinkable that the Vestals might have seen me arrive. Apart from this, your husband is too busy in the East chasing Pompeius and most Roman noblemen are also fighting also there. We should only fear ladies’ viper-like tongues. But I don’t think they could be out there now. Calpurnia…. Don’t be afraid, we will go in Cornelia’s litter and you can veil you face so that you aren’t recognized.

–Why are you so interested in all this, Kornel? What do you get with it?

–You’d rather ask yourself what you want to get, New Alexander’s wife… knowing what awaits you in the near future, including potential risks , it’s time you should estimate whether this fearful seclusion would do you any good. You will need quite a lot of self-confidence and determination to go ahead. That is why we should start to do away with your fear as soon as possible. What will be the use of them when…?

He dropped a pause as he knew I had understood what he still had to tell me: if I wanted to strengthen myself and become somehow dazzling in order to recover what belonged to me I had to face my own obsession of keeping an appearance of absorbing discretion, something that had been impelled by the circumstances in which I lived.

–Calpurnia… I want you to breathe Roman air, no mater how rotten it is, especially now that heat is increasing… Just for a moment, a few hours, try to get over this asepsis that surrounds you in Domus Publica , though I understand your situation. What’s more, I need your guiding within this new Rome that I don´t know.

And so it was. For the first time after my teens (or perhaps in my lifetime) sitting next to Kornel, going along Via Sacra onto Palatinan Hill, leaving behind Flamines’ offices which he immediately recognized. Next, he carefully watched each of the domi which had been built in the latest years. His eyes clearly expressed some kind of amazement tinged with painful sorrow and alarm while staring at those Corinthian columns of jasper, porphyry stone and white, black, pink, amber or green marble at the entrance of each building.

-Considering that Roman faÇades are much simpler than the inside, it’s easy to guess what this is like, Calpurnia. Not only was all this financed by the riches produced by proscriptions. All that tide of scheming ones, publicani, novi homines, the new upstarts from the provinces. I am well informed about all this, Calpurnia. …

Those grey-and-blue eyes were looking ahead, thoughtfully, alien to their usual uncanny ability to explore the deepest bosom of one’s being.

–….And that lavishing imbecility of those who would keep their ancient lineage as their most solid value… All those patrician clubs may end up destroying the strength that, throughout the centuries, consolidated what we know as Rome today. Apìus Claudius…How could he recognize himself among this gang of good-at-nothing, degenerated demagogues who share his blood nowadays? At least your father’s does not display huge peacocks or lark hearts and Eastern-spiced sturgeon garum on his table… Don´t worry; someone, perhaps your husband, will have to restore old Republican values: you know, austerity, loyalty, cursus honorum as the only way to build a decent, well-balanced career… Today’s extravagance and spendthrift will be left only to those who will have grown richer too fast, let’s call them lanistae or quick-witted liberti protected by their former masters. No wonder your husband never told you about that. Yours has only been a few days’ marriage despite so many years gone by….Here behind, just where I spent my young years, he also knew about that face of Rome which you will never see, Calpurnia. No, I will not allow you to get into that area where he learnt too much about crossroads collegia, in which huge sums of money would be paid for ….personal services – shall we call it like that? – which were rendered to Roman patricians. That’s the origin of those groups of armed men who gave power to fellows such as Clodius Pulcher or Milo (yes, Cornelia’s husband)! I guess that Aurelia was careful not to give you too much information on this topic, when she told you about her Suburan insula Neither should I do, as you are a virtuous patrician lady, whose reputation must seem constantly flawless , according to your lord’s demands. But I am afraid that, once you have got over your shyness, fascinated by what’s occult and picturesque, you may want to explore all that. Then I warn you, that no-one from Palatine Hill with some basic sense of survival would think of wandering through Subura. It could also break your heart. You will see not only low–stuffed individuals…but also shopkeepers, teachers, craftsmen… So many thousands who do not belong to your class but have to survive in Rome…. Doomed to living in five or even seven-floored bee-hives with no wells or water, whose structure makes them prone to frequent fires, thanks to many of these upstarts who want to be patricians’ equals by living far from Subura’s stagnant damp heat, where stinking remainders speed up death rate. Could you face what I am telling you about, Calpurnia? In this atmosphere, why should it seem strange to us, the proliferation of hired killers and pimps? This is utterly different from those nice streets in Pompeii, with their small shops under the arches, their taverns selling ready-made meals and small squares filled with ambulant teachers and their pupils.. At least our slaves live in our houses and, in many cases, eat decently… Gods, Calpurnia… and this will get worse and worse. At this pace suburae after suburae will go on springing around Rome. What do you think they will be forced to do, so many peasants who have no chance of having some land of their own in Southern Campania? This will be the woodworm which will gnaw on the basis of Rome. Beyond all that net of intrigues which will be woven around power in the future… When your husband victoriously returns, you should remind him where he comes from and encourage him to care about that area. Controlling compitalia would be a good idea. Nevertheless, I know that, as a patrician, loyalty is indelibly stamped within himself… and he will always take it into account regarding those who saw his childhood and young years…. Calpurnia, we had better go down to the Forum and watch everything Pompeius has done. As far as I have seen, all the ostentation, knowing everything I know about him. Just what I told you before: these new men! Just compare his curia with poor Hostilia. Do they say that the same fire destroyed Basilica Portia? If I believed in all the omens, I would say this is a most serious sign: the burning of the one who best represented the wreck of values causing the collapse of two great Republican symbols. Don’t you think this goes further than a simply superstitious belief in portents, Calpurnia?

CHAPTER XX

XX

-Pharsalus…

It was anxious Portia who came to tell me about it that day at noon.

- Father and others like Pompeius’ father-in-law are already in Africa. As far as I know, Magnus left for Mitilene…A real slaughter, Calpurnia….These were the exact words the legate told me. Though it might seem strange to you, I am mainly sorry for Marcia. My father, you know, is inebriated by a cause that does not even allow him to have time to write to his wife. Luckily, she still has us, her friends, and the frequent visits of her father who has the good sense of inflicting it on her, I mean the presence of that foster-son who fatefully happens to be your husband’s grandnephew. She told me that he looks like Caesar and that she had initially been deeply disturbed by his overpowering self-confidence, unusual for a boy of his age, and that absent-looking bearing, almost non-human, despite his undeniable good looks. The same kind of absent-looking bearing that I have seen about you in these last few weeks and that really – what could I say …– alarms me!

Portia had also realized it. That strayed look of mine, of which I got aware. The sort of invisible subtle mist which had been invading me after returning from Cumae, when I started massaging my body every day with that ointment which had been carefully prepared following Kornel’s instructions and also taking up that labour of “inner watching” that I simultaneously carried about, trying to concentrate my attention on those knots of internal force throughout my self, according to the teachings of that wise man from overseas. I felt it coming over and over again. That intense concentrated life, expanding itself towards a look, the same as that one which had so often sprung up in my thoughts. Wise, almost motherly, in pain. Then giving way to another one beyond: misty, almost unknown despite its familiar features. Would myself, Portia, Aurelia, Marcia…Servilia herself…have anything to do with her? Perhaps I, Calpurnia Piso, was growing more like her, alien to what is purely human….

–My dear Calpurnia…Aren´t you influenced by that balm that you have been using since you returned from Cumae? Its perfume …. It is so strange!!

– Dearest Portia! You aren’t used to any kind of cosmetics. That is why this startles you.

–But… no other Roman patrician woman wears something like that! It is a combination of so many different odours. Has Cornelia…. recommended it to you?

No, I could not reveal it to her. On the other hand, she would not understand a single word. Anyway, what else could you expect of a strict stoic. Therefore, I changed the subject, asking her if Cornelia had had news about her nephew Faustus. Kornel… what might he be thinking right now? Why did I feel so confused when his memory often returned to me in those circumstances? I thought that the wisest thing to do would be to offer my trust and closeness both to Marcia and Portia, who badly needed them. No, I could not draw back within myself, in that anxious search of …what? An ability to fascinate that could darken that slightly perceived shadow, bound to break into …our lives in the next years to come? Would Kornel have found such a solid basis in my intuitions? Why not searching about its real existence? Perhaps, Kornel was the only one. Kornel, Kornel… why should my life depend on that fellow, who, at the same time, was and was not an elderly man, raised inside a wisdom which was alien to anything that had surrounded me for a lifetime. But I was bound to go ahead, with a husband who was Rome’s Great Man, who I had only cherished as a partner for a few days and whose loyalty expectancy happened to be…Which word could I use? Yes… which word would be proper for someone whose fame all over Rome would contradict his marital life… I really knew all this was both a desperate means to try to assert my own identity and a frantic wish to get rid of that occasional trembling that would come to me every time I remembered your tanned parchment-like skin merging into the vibration of my fibres. It was an anxious attempt to blur that dazzling vision coming from the East.. and I did not have any other access to it except Kornel. If only I could have him near, at least until your arrival in Rome, that return that I was starting to doubt about!

That evening , like the previous ones, I decided to have a bath and then send out my servants so that I could stay by myself and again proceed to the ceremony of anointing my body, rhythmically letting the balm within my skin pores, as if singing a silent unconscious melody… was it really like that? Those low notes, warm like a primary impulse which could be flowing inside my blood, now growing golden, turning into a shade that could be either dusk or noon sunshine, medium notes coming from my inner self, as if played by that instrument that I once heard in Blodwynn’s hands, encouraged by that female life force, wise and motherly, but now veiled by some eerie pale shine…. Maybe the light of a waxing moon on some kind of clay-like limbs which seemed to embrace a small newly-born life. “Isis, Ishtar… Embody yourself within me. Make me wear your face in front of him…”

My hands were climbing my breasts and neck while hearing that ascending voice of notes that seemed to be intensified by the iridescent shafts in emerald of the evening, lighting me up, veiling my sight and senses. Gods…. Were you, my lord? Among that unearthly mist of ethereal music, there flew that piercing look in blue and silver amidst that net of wrinkles. That hair, however, was not so scarce or flax-like, but those silver threads mixed with crimson hair were clear-cut… I made an effort to see you upright and wiry on your horse with no hoofs… Yes…but a huge peasant hat covered your face and you were riding a steed which had all his hoofs. An icy gaze was that… “Calpurnia, Calpurnia… What are you doing? What’s the use of your being here? There is no point: everything must go its way… and so must you…”

Those well-drawn lips might be trying a sort of chilly though captivating smile, the same that had been familiar to me since… Each particle of my being seemed to vibrate, encouraged by that dense flowing force which, in fact, was that force that I was beholding then. That fear of what I had just discovered made me grow aware of my strung, balm -anointed limbs.

CAESAR

CHAPTER XIX

XIX

-Isis…of course, Isis. Or Astarte, that’s the same thing. Fertile dark earth …Kehme… The reincarnated Goddess…The kings who descend from their gods and divinized kings like those we will have one day, Calpurnia. One of them could be your husband, whether he may like it or not. Or someone from his offspring, since it seems there won’t come any heir…from your blood. Once there was another illustrious Roman who didn’t have the chance to leave a proper successor simply because he decided to respect the Republic’s survival and, consequently, he refused to become a Roman king. There will come a time, Calpurnia, when your husband or whoever might succeed him will keep up the appearance of old Rome with all its magistrates, including the consuls, and they will even try to restore the old values which are based on family and sobriety. But the terrible truth of all this is that they will become the real new kings, no matter how soundly they might deny it publicly. They will even marry those who could be said to be incarnated deities and, therefore, mix their bloods. So much better if this could also mean annexing provinces which may be quite tempting for Rome…Are you blinking , my little one…?I can see you truly understand what’s going on. It’s no use shedding these tears which could hinder any assertive behaviour. I mean, to avoid your husband from being interested in anything related to Egypt….and that, at all costs, you may achieve some kind of metamorphose that will allow you to develop some qualities and skills to shadow a likely female rival which is wise and extremely cunning, gifted with some wisdom which lies even beyond what we call hidden lore … and some kind of ruthlessness and amorality which we couldn’t imagine in a Roman matron. I know what I’m talking about, since I met Mitridates myself – He was just an example of what Oriental monarchies are like. The only chance you could have is to try a final solution which wouldn’t be perfect, either. What’s more, it would take some long-term training to which not every woman is suitable. Though you, Calpurnia, are so different, due to your nature and what you have shown me since I met you… I warn you it requires a long time but the results may fulfil your wishes much more than using other methods. Apart from this, regarding that vision of your husband pouring blood all over, do not worry. According to what I have been able to decipher, the only likely danger for him is to stay here in Rome. I insist that he mustn’t be a bit carefree regarding his protection when he comes back. He should have his lictores near all the time and even hire an additional guarding body. Nevertheless, Calpurnia , if you’re really willing to it, from tomorrow you can start your own training by massaging your body with the ointment you have made yourself, working mainly on those points where force is most condensed and concentrating your thinking in natural living forces, which you will invoke meanwhile….

Yes, but, against what Kornel and Cornelia were trying to make me see I knew that, for the first time, I had been on the verge of ….my own end? As I happened to learn later on, such a vivid tangible experience had been the result of an excessively risky projection that I hadn’t been able to control, unlike any previous occasions. My own initiative had even been reduced. The only thing I could do was to hold on to that hope Kornel was offering me without any consideration on the ambiguous outcome it all might bring about. Nevertheless, he seemed sincerely pleased and even puzzled all those well-defined visions I had had.

–You can’t have the same visualizing capacity of sibyls and Gaul priestesses. It’s something that you cannot force but it will get to you unexpectedly, as if in a dream… Anyway, I advise you to constantly watch each of your thoughts even while you’re asleep .Nevertheless, in the name of all the Gods, do not obsess yourself…. It could be the most harmful thing for you….

But how would I control that? Why had he so recklessly warned me that? His contradictory behaviour was beginning to alarm me… Was I beginning to be aware that I had been the only one to take such a foolish risk, whose extent I had not seen until then? Would this be my real fate, my final repudiation from society as I was not suitable to play the role I had been given? Not matching up to either my husband or my own natural family, who would admit I was being loyal to Rome? I then decided to face the consequences from that moment and accept whatever thing that might happen to me as some kind of…penalty? for all of that. Nevertheless, I decided not to say anything to Kornel: he wouldn’t understand me. Though having been raised and grown up as a Roman citizen, he had been living in a world of his own too long. Furthermore, what was coming through my thoughts might not be fitful for him. I was aware he had some kind of personal interest in all this. Just as I had also realized that both Cornelia and he shared common benefits relating the trade of spiced wines for specific uses. No doubt that the old -?- Roman was a sort of intermediary with Gades citizens, though living retired inside Venus Marina’s temple. Something similar to Blodwynn’s role in Gaul and Britannia. Nevertheless, his deep interest in my marital stability made me notice that he was aiming at something further. This cast a shadow over my mood.

–There will come a woman whose blood will be both Julian…. and ours, yours and mine… Like you, Calpurnia, she will be able to avoid, through a dream, that a great man, a wise holy man from a Roman province –though not a citizen- may be sentenced to a shameful death…. That man….perhaps touched by our ancient Dis Pater….will change the face o our world, Calpurnia.…No, he will not be a king…. However, he will be accused of proclaiming himself as such and, thus, defying Rome.

Did he also have prophetical dreams? So many years of being trained there would certainly have made it possible. However, it was the idea itself, beyond Kornel’s overdeveloped capacities, what bewildered me, maybe overwhelmed by what this could mean. Gods, gods…. What would it be like, the last resource to avert this fate that seemed to collapse onto this barren, dry, lonely cloistered life….?

CHAPTER XVIII

XVIII

It was wise of Kornel to make me stop that day. The night after, my yearning for resuming what I had interrupted the day before didn’t allow me to sleep properly. Luckily, the fact of having been exposed to incense helped me relax that eagerness that had invaded the serenity I had gained during those few days at Pompeii. Nevertheless, I had to admit that my budding instability was due to that menacing-?- sprout of physical pleasure which would fulfil me whenever those odorous, almost mind-blurring clouds thoroughly bathed my naked skin... no, no, I couldn’t... I knew that this treasured sensuousness which I firmly kept hidden had begotten that thing I really desired. Trying to control myself as much as I could, I finally succeeded in stopping this strong feeling inside without losing that quietness the smoke had generated within myself, keeping my pulse unaltered. No, I couldn’t let myself be carried away, spoiling this unique chance to overcome those barriers which would certainly lead me to a definitive...

–Calpurnia, do remember that, when you swallow the brewing I told you about, you must SEE how it flows through the deepest part of your body, nourishing and merging into those knots of bright life force throughout your own self. Keep this in mind whenever you work with the ointment.

How could I submit the fear to let myself be driven inside that turbulence which was opening up before my eyes while I was pushing the bronze masher against the mashed grains of several kinds of resins? I was aware I could get strayed.... something unavoidable... Yes, notwithstanding it all, I made an effort to keep my thoughts controlled while watching that terse hand on the verge of disappearing within that resinous, amber-like tide which was becoming a whirlwind, like those ruby, sunset-like waves that I had very often seen spring up, ravishing my lower belly, turning into golden blasts through my waist, filling my breasts with mild, subtle green life, the same one that runs through the grass and the hearts of the trees, turning into that turquoise force that enlivens the tide around my mouth and then growing into that indigo energy which is reflected in those nights at Cumae and Pompeii. Was that mauve twilight-like force absorbing my consciousness, swallowing it into a spiral tunnel which was dragging me in? No, i still felt how my hand was squeezing that dough, now softer and softer, and could notice that Kornel was near. Perhaps it was this tumultuous life flow that I had watched inside myself the same as that one which nourished dusks, oceans, the heartbeat of the groves..... my own sensuousness? Maybe some sort of embracing , tapestry-like forest in the deep of the earth? Was it there where earthly fruitfulness really lay? The same one that, being given the name of Juno, Diana, Artemis, Flora, Pomona, Tellus, Artarte, Isis...or the Great Mother of the Gallic people, had been invoked since remote ages? Some sort of drive coming from my belly ascended through my throat, almost summoning that force, desperately praying that I could join her fertility, merging into it, making myself fruitful in some intangible timeless way, beyond transmitting my blood to someone who might never do it....Why should this thought have come to me for the first time in my life?

I awaited...Some empty misty silence remained inside of me. Why, life-arousing force, don’t you answer me, now that I really need it? Is this my fate, my lady –if I should call you like this – that you must be so merciless to me, keeping both my body and life barren? Let me then merge inside you, get lost within your womb, no more Calpurnia, the Great Roman’s absurd little wife; let me be a part of you, melted within that flow of which you are a part, with no identity or individuality of my own . Perhaps I wasn’t even born to have it. Let me, then, keep a bit of dignity....

I remained merged within that kind of prayer. Some sort of wet frozen trembling pierced that place where my body wasn’t anymore...Kornel? Cornelia...? Maybe somehow blurred presences, some sort of energy that, nevertheless, i perceived next to mine. What was that which felt so tangible? Tangible...? All that life force coming from dawn and sunset, leaves, enlivening forces which nourishes trees and some other aspects of life... So dense, concentrated, as if condensing inside a universe of countless, crystal–like particles, merging into waves which filled every pore of my being, my breasts and womb, making them feel fulfilled and hopeful after such a long time. I tried to breathe among thankful intangible tears. Mother... I knew you would listen to me.

I beheld what was rising up before my eyes, as if I were expecting to see that fruitful force spring up, embracing me, cuddling me inside, just like taking me back to that time when I was only some growing sprout of life, within that warm dark womb which now lay lost somewhere within the Great Mother.

“Calpurnia, do tell me... What’s there, up above, beyond where you are?”

It might be the echo of Kornel’s voice, reverberating through that beating barren stony womb...Rocky and fertile....The Great mother of the Crescent.... the Lady of the Apples...

“Ishtar…Astarte...Queen of the sea that caresses your feet... open up the paths in my mind... Cleanse them from anything that can ruin its being fertilized with the seed that will make me fruitful through your light …Do not forsake me....”

That beating salty roaring of the milky sea foam on that green-streaked blue was invading my nostrils in front of that marble and colonnade which gave way to the cella where Venus Marina watched over the entrance of Astarte-ruled subterranean cave. Wet sunshine got hold of my skin, making me stagger dizzily, feeling that subtle salty scent which sea breeze was blowing al over my arms and face.

“Mother...Kornel...” This could have been my own voice, physical and painful, but I decided to let my thoughts express my feelings. Anyway, what was the use of speaking there, away from everyone? That lonely feeling, however, had nothing to do with helplessness. Maybe because I wasn’t really aware of what was happening. I just sat down on those rock-carved stairs, feeling my thighs scratched. I fixed my gaze on that coast in front of me, tinged with some blinding, sparkling bluish mist in which I could make out what could be Roman-like domi and even the profile of a theatre on the other side of a sea stretch where dull green mixed with tiny golden streaks that I closely watched, trying to find some answer through those golden-green serpent-like streams. No, despite that drive urging me to do it, I could not enter there…where that subtle ethereal body which was a part of me had just slipped in.... and where I knew that that all that primeval life growing below, buried under that solid-looking cave where the Great Goddess would brighten up the sailing of the ships at night, transfigured into all the faces of that vital pulse, beating down below in that womb which was veiled by the Virgin Mother, all of it generated by the same light which, dense and crystal-like, sprang up in the deep….The same one that would nourish those ethereal living forces which one day begot the bearers of the Occult Wisdom.... Likewise, I was aware that these dwelt up there, beyond what is tangible, suspended on our existence....

No, I was forbidden to go farther from that colonnade which protected Venus’ cella. I was climbing up that hill side, beyond the temple, walking past those large vineyards around it, approaching what must be houses, so different from our domi, built with that porous ochre-coloured local rock, consisting of two storeys, one of which seemed to be devoted to the storage of goods. I couldn’t notice anyone else’s around-at least, initially. A little farther, mixed up with those buildings, I found Roman domi, whose front side was very like those on Palatine Hill. Only that these were built with salt-drenched, shell-decked stone. There were only a few remarkable ones due to their marble-covered columns at the entrance, like that one with red columns on the stairs which kept the threshold off the earthy street, utterly different from those carefully paved in Rome. Why should it have reminded me of the description that Balbus once made us of his family home, in which that wealthy man still lived, despite the fact of being the one who had promoted the new town in front of the island where he had been born and raised? As I was ascending, I was growing more and more aware that something was changing: I recognized the same kind of bustling I had noticed in Pompeii, that of vendors with their stalls around the harbour and slaves carrying their merchandise into Roman-built ships. There were also many vessels which were very different from ours and could belong to those fellows, not Roman-looking at all, who were hurrying their serfs onwards. I didn´t think of imprudently going ahead and wandering all alone around that place where a large sea stretch reached the earth, expanding itself into a bay which embraced a numberless amount of vessels, rocked by Western wind, amidst that dazzling transparent blue mists. On both extremes of that bay there stood two imposing solid buildings, out of which some kind of unknown subtle force seemed to flow, making them look like...temples? Temples....Long before the Romans’ arrival, places where that intense eerie force which runs through the bosom of the Earth, gets condensed and, mixed up with incense, perfume, oblations and prayer generate some sort of unseen magnetic mists that keep the place apart from everywhere else, drawing those who stay here closer to those who inhabit an intangible world which, nevertheless, almost touches the Earth. I walked onwards along that long stretch which kept the temple far from its surroundings, among the groups of people who were holding their offerings. Then, amidst midday damp heat, feeling my mind swinging between what was going around me and this self of mine, which stood here, far beyond my own physical body, when all that living force beating around me seemed to get condensed, materialized, embodied....

“It’s not here where you must go.... “

Some kind of non-bodily shivering invaded my subtlest, most intangible channels within my being.

“This is a secret space....” “Not for you, Calpurnia.....”

Not for me... I turned round without any deeper considerations about what was yet to come. I went downwards, leaving it all behind: the harbour and all that bustling of sailors, tradesmen and serfs toiling around, unaware of my presence. I also walked past the house that looked like Balbus’, feeling my feet scratched and covered with sand. I couldn´t go downstairs and washed them in sea water... I would do it later... There were no priests or wardens guarding the entrance. But all of it seemed so strangely obvious to me... As obvious as that virgin fertile force of the earth or that occult wise energy springing out of the foam which washed the stairs down below...

“Mother...Sibyl...”

This was some kind of fruitful dark force, this which was rising up violently... Isis... perhaps the black earth from the East was showing here all its fruitful strength. That pregnant, dark adolescent-like belly, on which a...serpent?...seemed to crawl.... and whose disdain for me was no more than the reflection of those strange cat-like eyes, showing off her pregnancy before me at the pace of an unknown sort of laughter, flowing like a river, showing many kinds of shades, each of which was a jeering conjuring against me…Was that your shadow, hanging over that womb? I knelt down breathless, trying to control my suffocating heartbeat, which was choking my throat. Yes, I could see it crystal-clear...It was your glory: your manly pride had got finally satisfied. Some anguishing heat seemed to come from the bottom.. One female uncanny force, motherly and vigorous, warring and crimson, might be swallowing it all into a blazing outburst. That smothering gave way to some thunder-like yelling... Could it be that Jupiter’s temples had caught fire again? Were they flames through your body or was it your own blood pouring out of each of your skin pores, nourishing, purifying a swarm of beings gathering around you?

“No, Mother.... No.... do not put me to this test”

Was it that alien dark lap, the place where your shadow kept mercilessly spilling your life or maybe that of my own, as purple-soaked as yours, tearing up, melting away at the feet of that statue...

“Mother...Sibyl... do away with my absurd barren life right now...Is this the reason why you have driven me here? Yes, do unveil your face... Speak out clearly, be brutally cruel...”

Both my sight and whole being were merging into a wave of salty wet sublimated blood....

CHAPTER XVII

XVII

The warmth of that embrace struck me. How on earth could it be that you were back? No, it wasn’t possible. You were meant to be busy with the campaigns in Greece, so close to what would happen to be a turning point in the development of the war nundina later. Why was I so certain that you wouldn’t be crushed down by Pompeius Magnus and the optimates? Might this be an enlightening blast through my thoughts again? No, this time I had not felt that painful prophetic female echo... Nevertheless, it was your own touch: hard, sweetly warm... The same slender hands, which, shaking were unravelling my hair, trembling like the first time....

–Calpurnia .... Calpurnia.....

Which voice was that?

–Calpurnia.... What will I.... will you make of yourself? My fragile Calpurnia, how will you manage to face what is yet to come?

I blinked. He was aware of my blushing.

–Do not worry, Calpurnia... I had to hold you and carry you in my arms to a place where you could lie down. Cornelia.... She knows what to do to make you feel stronger. If you intend to go on these experiences, you will need some kind of special physical protection to develop and strengthen that channel which is just on the middle of the top of your head, through which all the forces are filtered, the ones that drive you to vibrate as if foreseeing something.. Yes, Calpurnia; despite everything I told you a while ago, I truly doubt you are physically fit to undergo that initiation into supreme knowledge I spoke to you about.... Notwithstanding all this, Calpurnia, we must do something.

“We must do something!” Hadn’t I repeated that to myself day after day within my loneliness? Something that could make me avoid being repudiated. Who would dare marrying the Great Roman’s rejected wife, no matter how well-off my status could be? It is such a thing that no other childless Roman lady would ever suffer in her lifetime. I had grown too heavily tabooed by my own barrenness, something that was plain to see. Father... No, it would turn out to be no trifle for Lucius Calpurnius, the fact of losing his privileged position, so close to the Great Roman. Mother... What.... would you have said? Who knows...

“Calpurnia...... Calpurnia”

“Calpurnia....”

My belly shook, as if rising up to desperately protest in front of that shadow which seemed to hang over my skin pores... What to do? Could it be.... Perhaps was this idea which seemed to grow almost tangible before my startled eyes?

“ Just let this poor infertile mother be fruitful in wisdom... Let your womb and breasts get profit of that strength which is strange to any man so that it generates that deep primeval wisdom from which what is sacred and female comes....”

“Enlightening shadow... how?”.

–Every time you experience that life impulse to... satisfy that need to feel your lord, Calpurnia... even those days your body wants to be especially fertile... Do concentrate yourself on that primary power which springs out of you, stored inside your lower belly and breasts. Watch it, try to find out which colour it is on each track of your body...Feel it run... how it nourishes each of your limbs...all your inner being. Feel it flow there, at the top of yourself and how it shines through each particle that makes part of your body... Nourishing, enlightening it... Making the Wise woman, the Mother of wisdom flow... From that moment it is you who must see what is happening to you. It does not depend on me how to guide you.. Remember you are the mother of that force. Only you can decode and interpret what it might intend to let you know, Calpurnia, my beautiful loyal Calpurnia. I simply demand of you that you will follow the instructions that I’ll give to Cornelia. You know that, missing some essential things where I live, we must turn to other additional means. I cannot trigger that energeia , as Greeks call it, by exposing yourself to sunbeams through gems. If I may do it, on my next visit I’ll provide you with new means to make it all more effective.

During the days of my stay at Pompeii, Cornelia Sulla did not forget it. Initially twice, then three and later up to five times a day she would made me have a certain amount of wine in which she had boiled incense, myrrh, orange, clove , anis and fennel. She would alternate this brewing with another one mixing “lady’s mantle”, parsley, lavender, rosemary, geranium, orange and camomile. The wine would always be mixed with water from those wells which were linked to the caves that had sheltered sibyls long ago.

–I will help you to open up your body at daybreak and dust in waves of incense that you must burn with cinnamon, laurel, honeysuckle, calendula, sagebrush, rosebud ,absinth, thyme or acacia, clover, cypress, hazel, lily, fir, moss, rosemary and rowan. Do not worry: Cornelia will prepare it all, including the exact amount you must take with yourself when you come back to Rome...The Vestals!!! How could I have forgotten about them?

Perhaps this was the first time I saw Kornel really puzzled, alien to that magnet-like presence which seemed to emanate out of him naturally. I felt some kind of peculiar emotion. He must be more or less your age...or my father’s.

–You must be especially cautious about it, Kornel. The Great Roman’s wife....

I noticed some veiled ironical smile through his beard.

– ... Not only must she be virtuous...

I had a slight glimpse of his glossy teeth..

– ....Ointment vases... Yes, why not? That incense and the rest of the ingredients can be ground into some sort of ointment with which you will massage your body just immediately waking up in the morning and before going to sleep every day. Be careful: do not use it in your privates. Do smear it very slightly and gently on your armpits, groins and inner thighs.

Therefore I learnt how to slowly smash that huge amount of resinous grains, tiny leaves and flower petals that Cornelia would provide in the exact proportions that Kornel had prescribed , after having exposed me to those clouds which were spirally ascending from those recipients where incense, myrrh, flowers and herbs were being slowly consumed, filtering that sensuously sacred sweetness throughout my skin pores and body openings, fading all that old embarrassing modesty into a wave of careless pleasure which was getting hold of me, making me feel like being about to be possessed by you, my lord..... Luckily, that exposure was too short to make me lose consciousness. Just as it had been on the verge of happening to me while I was firmly handling that bronze masher inside that resinous dough within the huge, incredibly transparent crystal bowl that Cornelia had given me.

–It must all be prepared only right here. We mustn’t use any other recipients, according to Kornel’s instructions.

.... And the masher was going deeper and deeper into that whirlwind of grains which were still reluctant to be crushed...Crawling along that spiral tunnel that my hand had opened within that incense cloud... And I watched that translucent, almost bright, pale emerald-like flow which had sprung up at the pace of my heartbeat and was flying upwards to merge into that wave of sunbeams which were being filtered through sapphires, ascending through my throat and face and finally getting lost in that mauve twilight-like light in the centre of my head....

Could it be true, this thing I felt swallowing me, dragging this self of mine into that spiral stream my hands had just shaped???

–Calpurnia.... That’s enough for today.