The Lance and the Veil — Preview

The horses came that night. Veronica was awakened by them, but was not afraid until Demetria burst into her room, lifted her off the bed and ran with her wrapped in a blanket to the servants’ quarters. The cheek pressed against Veronica’s forehead was wet. Demetria’s voice was hoarse as she whispered that Veronica must stay hidden. She placed her in a storage alcove, drew a curtain and padded away. For a while the only sound was Veronica’s heart. As it slowed, her eyes grew heavy and she slipped into sleep again.

Heavy footsteps and deep voices woke her. Shadows crossed the curtain. A violent smack startled her, then a thud as something hit the wall, followed by a slap on the floor.

A calm voice intervened. It was deep like a man’s but lilted slightly like a woman’s. “Separate the other servants. Beat each in turn until one talks. Then strangle whoever brought her the poison.”

Veronica was wide awake now. She curled into a tight ball to make herself as small as possible, but her breath ran away from her, and she let out a tiny squeak. A monstrous shadow fell over the curtain, sweeping it aside. A man towered above her, then crouched low. His face glistened, lit on one side by a flickering lamp.

“Ave, daughter. I am Sejanus. A friend of your father and mother. What is your name?”

“V’ronica.”

Sejanus leaned into the alcove and lifted Veronica out. As her head bobbed over his shoulder, she spied Demetria, lying on the floor against the wall.

“’Metria.”

“Yes,” the man whispered. “She’s sleeping. We mustn’t wake her.”

He carried her past Demetria out to the garden, where servants of the house were spread out and stripped naked. They whimpered as men dressed like this Sejanus beat them with rods. Sejanus carried Veronica into the main house, where there were more men standing with the girls of the house. A cauldron of embers behind the line of girls filled the room with an acrid smoke that stung Veronica’s eyes and throat.

“They claim it wasn’t poison,” a man told Sejanus. “Only the coals. And she took them herself.”

What’s wrong with mother? Veronica thought, as she wriggled a hand free to rub her itching nose. Her mother lay on her back, staring wild-eyed at the ceiling, her mouth opened in a wide O, as a wisp of grey smoke wafted upward from her throat. Veronica would wonder for many years about the symbolism of her mother’s death, but on that night she didn’t know what death was. She only felt an eerie separation, awe and a reverence for a scene where she shouldn’t intrude.

So she didn’t object when Sejanus carried her away. That is, until they reached the front door. Suddenly a chill hit her and Veronica saw, not landscape and sky, but utter blackness, eternal emptiness. She was gripped at that moment by what must have been the fear of death. Oblivion from which there is no return.

Veronica shrieked and grabbed the doorjamb. All of her strength went into that grip, to keep from falling, from being lost forever. Sejanus tickled her at the ribs, chiding her gently, but the girl only became angrier, kicking and screaming, until, his patience expiring, Sejanus pried her fingers loose.

“Off we go,” he sang as he bounced her in his arms across the portico[5], and trotted down the steps to a waiting chariot. It was then the driver’s task to restrain the girl as Sejanus untied his cape and wrapped Veronica tightly.

“Whom have we here?” his driver asked.

“Mistress Veronica.”

“Curious name.”

“True image.” Sejanus dabbed at her tears with a corner of the cape. “True image of your mother, clearly. Let’s hope you meet a happier end.”

The driver snapped the reins and the team broke forward. The loud wheels of the chariot drowned the world out.

*                                 *                                 *                                  *

Prior to that night, Veronica had visited her Uncle Theodosius’ home, but it was not entirely familiar. She only had a vague image of him as someone distant, lofty, much like the man referred to as father. He stood on the portico and greeted Sejanus as he climbed the stone stairs with Veronica in his arms.

“Ave, Sejanus.”

“Ave.”

Theodosius’ hand, extended in salute, seemed to stop Sejanus below the portico. He placed Veronica down and unwrapped his cape. He folded his cape over his bent arm, then took Veronica’s hand and urged her to climb the last couple of stairs. Her uncle’s dark countenance and the line of servants behind him formed an imposing barrier. Veronica hesitated until she saw Claudia peeking around the maids in the doorway. Her older cousin had been friendly and affectionate the few times they’d played together. Now Claudia skipped forward and hugged Veronica, and walked her back to the house. “Ave, Veronica,” she whispered. “Did they tell you? We’re going to be sisters.”

With a flick of his wrist, Theodosius dismissed the servants, who scurried past the girls. Veronica hesitated at the threshold. Somehow, crossing into this home had a weight of permanence she wasn’t willing to accept. But why?  Death?  She listened to the men for some clue, but the meaning of their words escaped her.

“A pity,” Sejanus sighed, “we didn’t arrive in time to save her poor, distraught mother.”

“Perhaps your arrival was the precipitating event.”

Sejanus wagged his head. “That would have been a tragic misinterpretation of our interest.”

“Such misunderstandings have become common.”

Sejanus donned his cape. “So good of you, Theodosius. To give the girl a home.” But before he could turn to depart, her uncle continued.

“What details are there of my brother’s death?”

“Few, I’m afraid.”

Her uncle paced a few steps before responding, “As with Germanicus[6].  Seems this is an age when Roman officers die mysteriously.”

“Even a good soldier can get dangerously close to the enemy.”

Theodosius raised his voice. “Enemies of Rome, or of Caesar?”

The question lingered in the air, before Sejanus broke the tension with a wry smile. “Is there a difference?” Then, more forthrightly, “Good night, Theodosius. The Emperor will note well your charity.”

Theodosius stood rooted as Sejanus returned to his chariot, then turned back to the door. His eyes flashed annoyance at the girls loitering in the foyer, and they scampered away. As she ran with Claudia across the cold tiles, Veronica desperately wanted to hide. A curtain had been pulled back from her world, and she’d seen terrible things. She dove under the covers of Claudia’s bed and veiled her eyes.