POMPEII

DIES LUNÆ A.D. XI KAL. IVL. DCCCXXXII A.U.C. (21 Jun 79 CE)

Up early today. Gnosos wasn’t particularly pleased at being rousted before Sol Indiges had even rolled his way around from Autochthon. Or, if you prefer, the round underbelly of the Earth where the Indians or whoever were forced to walk on their heads. Who knows what colorful nonsense sloshes around in the head of a Greek? Needless to say, whatever it was, he kept his mouth shut and got me properly equipped for my day.

The air was heavy with moisture and a foreshadowing of heat. There would be no need to watch the birds to understand that by noon, we’d all be forced into the weak shelter of shade. I’d have to cancel my lunch with Gaius Plinius; with his steady eye for natural doings, he’d no doubt see that the trip over from Miscenium would be a severe trial.

I decided to proceed out to the hill we’d be using later for some augury. We’d have public auspices to take, giving our aedile permission to begin repair work on our poor collapsed temples. No doubt the gods would be a bit peevish, considering we’d been happy to leave the damn things in a pile for XVII years.

The air was still sullen and I was quite damp by the time I’d finished trudging my way up. The view of our city, which was steadily coming to life as the morning progressed, and the docile Bay beyond was becoming quite clear, though, as the mists dissipated. A deep breath gave me the scent of the sea. Gulls sounded.

When I could put aside my irritation at being away from Roma, Pomeii really *was* quite delightful. It is a playful town, busy with shipping and whoring and trade. Really quite a fine representation of the whole Imperium, when I thought about it. I’d been pulled back from Rome and a feisty start of Senatoring,to watch the decline and fall of my dear uncle, and adopted father. A little too much into trade for my taste, but he’d been a fine man who’d raised me from relative obscurity, introduced me to my two wives and paid off enough of the mob to get my first election to office. He’d even suffered through being my first client, as I attempted lawyering. How awkward for him. But it worked; I’d raised a fine reputation. He’d gotten old and fat, though, and he’d had a fall from the deck of one of his ships. He lived for three weeks after I’d arrived.

I considered all this while gnawing at the bread Gnosos had tucked into my toga.

Ah-hah! There it was again!

Of course, the scenario was all wrong. No templum, no pipers, no collage of nattering idiot priests. The birds, though. Those fluttering, inane puppets of divine will…were speaking. Out of turn, and privately, to me.

Normally, I’d think it chance. Weird luck. But it was so deliberate! And it repeated! Over and over and over. Until someone else would arrive to shatter the moment.

And my gods…hints of ira deorum that made my blood turn cold.

Written by: L. Claudius Pulcher

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