Goddess
Chapter 7

“Cassius, I hope there’s a very good reason whyI had to come all this way,” Gaius says, irritation in his voice. Then he seesus. “Why are they here?”

“Gaius!” Cassius says enthusiastically. “How areyou? It’s been too long. How is good old Sextus Molestus?”

“Ha-ha. Sextus Tacitus. And I don’t have allday,” responds Gaius. “Make it quick.”

Cassius smiles, diverted by Gaius’s humorlessmanner. “Oh, you Mars boys are never any fun anymore. Like the war is going tobe won or lost in the five minutes it takes to have a conversation. Okay. Youare here because of these very special girls.”

Gaius looks at us in confusion. Cassiuscontinues.

“You see before you a fully mature tree bearingfruit in early May. This tree began as a dried fig about twenty-four hoursbefore Miss Lucia here asked our goddess Pomona to help it grow.” He pauses foreffect, gives Gaius a dazzling smile, and waits for his grand announcement tosink in. “Oh, and Marta and Olivia have grown these two lovely anemones,” headds as an afterthought.

Gaius stares at the tree, his face draining ofcolor. He looks at it for a full two minutes before turning his intense gaze onus, his hand to his mouth. He’s silent for so long I think the tension willkill us all.

Then he snaps, fells Cassius with a brutalpunch, and begins beating him senseless.

“You irresponsible…unbelievable…inexcusablelying ass,” Gaius rages at himbetween blows, as the three of us shriek in terror.

“Stop!” I beg him. “Please stop. We wanted tolearn; he was helping us.”

“Helping you?” Gaius yells, totally unhinged. Hegets up but lands one last kick to Cassius’s ribs.

“Ow,” Cassius says from the ground.

“You think this guy is helping you? He isgetting you all killed, that’s what he’s doing! He promised me he would make itright…” Gaius trails off, breathing heavily. We are all too terrified to speak.

Then he pulls his knife out of its sheath,scaring us to tears, but it turns out he just wants something to point with.“This is what’s going to happen,” he says in a deadly tone. “You are mystudents now. We will meet in one week, fifty feet west of the junction betweenVia Flaminia and Via Callia, in the woods. Come in disguise. Cassius will joinus, but he will do exactly what I say, and onlywhat I say, or I will hand him over to the Flamen Martialis and demand he besummarily executed. You will not see him again until that time. Don’t befollowed, don’t be obvious, and don’t”—he points his knife directly at me—“bestupid,” he finishes furiously. Then he turns and walks directly off into theforest.

“Uhh,” Cassius groans, and sits up. “He’s beenworking out.”

“Are you okay? What can we get you?” Marta saysas we stand over him. His nose is pouring blood.

“I’m fine. It’s okay, just a broken nose, Ithink,” Cassius says, weak but reassuring. “I beat him in a wrestling matchlast year,” he adds, somewhat defensively, to no one in particular.

“Gaius is a strange guy,” says Marta. “I neverreally talked to him before the day at the circus, and he seemed normal enoughthen. Did you have any inkling he would try to beat you to death? How exactlydid you think that would go? And what does he want?” In reply, Cassius justshakes his head.

“If you had asked me, Cassius, I would havewarned you,” I say. “He’s not the most even-tempered person. But don’t worry,Marta. I think he has our best interests at heart.”

“I guess we’ll see,” she says darkly.

As it turns out, we don’t need Gaius to preventus from meeting Cassius. After Floralia, our schedule is packed with Vestalduties: performing rituals, assisting with sacrifices, and attendingsupplicants. The temple is busier than I have ever seen it, and all day long Ipray with wives, sisters, and daughters who want a miracle to end the war. Eventhough it’s only been a few days, the bombing at the Circus Maximus has shakentheir faith in our army. How can they defeat such a terrible weapon? There is aspecial kind of despair in the eyes of the mothers. They know this war iscoming for their sons.

Vesta may be fake, but when I pray with thesewomen, I pray for real. Maybe someone will hear us anyway.

I still deliver Lavinia’s letters to SextusTacitus and the other pontiffs. Each day, when I emerge from the passagewayinto the Regia, Gaius completely ignores me. Although he doesn’t say anything,his posture is so rigid that he positively exudes fury. It’s clear he’s upsetwith me for learning to invoke the gods instead of pretending I never saw thelamp oil, and since I don’t feel any regret, I can’t take his anger seriously.

Despite his behavior, I politely greet him everytime I pass. I sometimes see a muscle in his jaw twitch in anger, and thisamuses me deeply, so I keep it up.

Lucia, Marta, and I busy ourselves at night withthe very serious problem of The Hair. We devise various schemes for how we willarrive in the woods fully disguised and yet transform back into Virgins beforeour return. I doubt Gaius was thinking of this when he demanded we come to ourmeeting incognito, but the very act of changing our hair or dress would seemhighly unusual to an observer, and that’s a big risk. Ultimately, I ask theVestalis Maxima to grant us leave to visit my father’s house for the night. Iwrite home, warning my mother to expect three tired, dusty girls in the eveningafter we spend our day off exploring in the countryside.

When the day comes for us to meet Gaius, we walkalong the road out of town until we’re sure we can no longer be seen. Then wesneak off into the woods, changing into our non-Virgin outfits and yanking pinsout of each other’s hair.

“Quit messing with it,” demands Marta as Luciatries to style her hair into something you might see a city girl wear.

“I just want to tryit,” Lucia whines. “It would look so good on you. Don’t you wantthe disguise to look right? We can’t just let our hair poof out and go wild. Wewon’t look like Vestals, but we will look really, really odd.”

“We don’t have a whole lot of time for that,Lucia,” I say. “Unless we can hitch a ride on a cart going north, we haveanother forty-five minutes of walking ahead of us. And I don’t think it’s wiseto be late.”

Lucia pouts but finally concedes. We pull backour hair and try to look as normal as we possibly can, and we carefully foldour bridal clothes and pins into our satchels.

When we finally arrive at the crossroads,there’s nobody there. “What did he say again?” I ask. “Fifty feet east or west?Into the woods?”

“Um,” say Marta and Lucia. Crap.

There’s a rustling behind us, and Cassiusmotions for us to follow him into the forest. Thank the gods.

“Gaius isn’t here,” he says. “Do you rememberwhether he said to meet fifty feet north or east of the crossroads? I thinkit’s one of the two.”

“We don’t know either,” I say.

Cassius snorts. He is about halfway recoveredfrom his two black eyes, so his face is brilliantly yellow and green. “I guessit’s a little hard to memorize instructions when you’ve got a knife pointed inyour face. Maybe he should think about that next time he threatens someone.”

“Where are we anyway?” Lucia says irritably.“This is all getting a bit ridiculous. I don’t see what was wrong with meetingin the clearing.”

“Lucia, I think this is going to get a lot worsebefore it gets better,” Cassius says. “Based on the location, there’s only onepossible place we can be headed. And you’re going to need these.” He hands useach a small tin of something oily and smelly.

“Where are we going? What is this?” Marta asks.

“I hope I’m wrong, but I believe we’re headed tothe site of an old Circus Maximus. The Circus Callia it’s known as now. It wasbuilt from wood, so the original structure no longer stands, but the track isstill there. It was used until about seventy-five years ago, when theycompleted the circus in Polonia,” he says.

“Why is that bad?” I ask.

“The site of the Circus Maximus was alwaysintended for the city proper, but this was a temporary structure until theycould get the concrete and marble one erected,” he says. “Unfortunately theCircus Callia was built on a rather swampy stretch of land, and the mosquitoeswere so horrendous, they poured a tremendous amount of money into getting theMaximus done early. The stuff in the tins is oil mixed with a plant extractthat will repel them. You need to rub it on every exposed part of your body,especially your feet and legs.”

“Where’s my tin?” says Gaius, emerging from thetrees.

Cassius scoffs. “Whoops, must have forgotten it.What a shame.”

“And where have you all been?” asks Gaius,annoyed. “I’ve been waiting for you west of the crossroads, as I told you.Girls, stash your bags under this outcropping,” he orders, indicating a pile ofrocks that will conceal our satchels, “and let’s go.”

More merciful than Cassius, we share our plantoil with Gaius. Cassius was indeed right about our destination, and althoughthe mosquitoes aren’t yet in full swing, there are enough of them to make thewalk unpleasant. The extract works, but getting buzzed by their high-pitchedwhines is unsettling. Repressed by Gaius’s attitude, no one speaks until weemerge from the tall grasses onto a huge level plain, clearly the site of theold racetrack.

Gaius places the bags he is carrying, which lookextremely heavy, onto the ground with care. Then he hesitates, and takes one ofthe bags at least a hundred yards across the field, stashing it in a ditch.“Now,” he says when he returns, holding up a small parcel, “let’s get directly tothe point. This small package contains black powder, the Selanthi material thatmakes things blow up. They’ve been launching it at our troops in battle. Ourteam has finally reverse-engineered it and begun to manufacture their own, butthey have not yet successfully weaponized it. They can’t figure out how theSelanthi are triggering the bombs to explode from a distance. Only fire can triggerthe explosions,” he adds. “It only needs to be a spark, but nothing else willwork.”

Then he turns to Lucia. “I am going to placethis package on the ground about five hundred yards away from you, in themiddle of the track. Then I want you to try blowing it up with your powers.Wait until I return before you try,” he says warningly.

“Duh,” says Lucia.

After Gaius places the black powder in thefield, he returns and looks at Lucia expectantly. It is clear from her previoussuccesses that she probably doesn’t need to perform any special invocation,paean, or prayer. “Go ahead,” he says.

She stands very tall and very still, her eyesclosed. Although I should be ready for it, I jump when I hear the loud boomthat echoes over the plain. I’m elated at her success, but Gaius is calm. “Whodid you pray to?” he asks.

“Vulcan,” she answers promptly.

He nods his head. “God of fire. That makessense. Good. Now for the hard part.” He bends back over the bag at his feet anddraws out an iron ball about the size of a small melon. “This iron ball isempty inside,” he says. “Our idea for beating the Selanthi at their own game isto trigger explosions inside the balls so they send shrapnel flying in alldirections when they explode. Our first difficulty was figuring out how toignite the black powder. Our second is how to throw these balls with enoughrange, accuracy, and power to actually harm enemy forces or smash through enemyships. Our catapults just aren’t strong enough or accurate enough. Lucia, youneed to make this ball fly all the way across the circus and into the trees onthe other side. Can you do that?”

“Of course!” she says brightly, clapping herhands.

Gaius looks thrilled at this. “Let’s see.” Heplaces the ball a few yards in front of her.

Lucia stands quietly, as before. She scrunchesup her eyes in concentration. Then she holds out her hand and makes an arcingmotion with it, left to right.

She opens her eyes. “Nothing happened?” sheasks, disappointed. Then she actually pouts. “I asked nicely.”

“Damn!” Gaius says, frustrated.

“Hold on just a moment, Gaius. Who did you ask,sweetheart?” Cassius patiently inquires, with a kind smile.

“Iris,” she says, still pouting. “Goddess ofrainbows.”

Marta snorts in laughter. I think she mightchoke.

“Do you think she was really the best person toask?” says Gaius, surprised. “I mean, she’s a minor goddess. She’s notparticularly powerful, is she?”

“Lucia just wanted it to look pretty,” says Marta, doubled over in laughter.“Idiot.”

“Well who would you have asked, MissSuperpowers?” Lucia demands.

“Mercury,” says Marta promptly. We all look ather. “He can fly, right? You know, the winged shoes? And he’s a major god.”

“Okay,” Gaius says. “Lucia, can you go ahead andtry asking Mercury, please?”

Lucia nods, her eyes still narrowed at Marta.“We’ll see.” I hope she doesn’t fail on purpose just to show Marta up. First,she performs the invocation prayer. Then she stands tall and clasps her handstogether. Next she tries standing up on tiptoe. Nothing. Her face falls.

“What did you try this time, honey?” Cassiussays. “What did you envision?”

“I pretended the ball had little winged feet,”says Lucia. This sends Marta into more convulsions.

“That’s okay,” says Cassius, shooting Marta alook. “Maybe we just need to try another method. Mercury is the god ofmessages, right? Maybe you just need to imagine the ball sending a message overto the target.”

We all like this idea, but unfortunately itdoesn’t work. Then we try every other possible angle we can think of for askingMercury to make the ball fly. Cassius sets up his little altar and we makesacrifices of dried fruit, cakes, even wine, but nothing helps.

After an hour, Gaius is discouraged and Lucia ison the point of tears.

“Maybe we should try something else,” I suggest.“Gaius, is there anything else Lucia might be able to help with?”

“No,” he says in an empty tone. “This was my oneand only goal. We might as well pack it in and go home.”

“Wait,” she says fiercely. “We are not givingup. I know I can do it. Wait. I’m going to try something else.” She takes adeep breath and regains her composure, supremely regal in her stature andbearing. A calm expression passes her face. She raises one hand in front ofher, fist clenched. We’re so quiet we can hear every mosquito for miles.

And the iron ball flies up across the field andinto the tree line so hard, it makes a tremendous crash as it splinters one ofthe tree trunks.

We all scream in delight. “You did it! You didit!” I shout, hugging her. Even Marta is overjoyed.

“What did you do? Who did you ask?” Gaius sayseagerly.

“Diana,” Lucia says.

“Of course,”I breathe. Diana. The Archer. Virgin goddess of the hunt. It’s absolutelyperfect. Diana lives a free-spirited life: she’s a huntress who roams the woodswith eighty virgin nymphs as companions, and her weapon of choice is a bow. Sheis also the goddess of the moon and the open sky. She’s known as a remote,inaccessible goddess who is not interested in the fates of ordinary men, and asVestals we don’t worship her often. But apparently Lucia has made an impressionon her.

Gaius is already fumbling to set up a makeshiftaltar, and Cassius is fishing in his bag o’ gods for a small Diana. I hope hehas one. In the meantime, I start poking around in our own packs for offerings.

“Olivia,” Cassius says suddenly. “Do you know anode to Diana? Because I don’t remember any.”

Gaius freezes and looks up. “I don’t either,” hesays, panicked.

I sigh. This is a tough one. “Okay, give me asecond,” I say. Then I recall.

“Dona cano divom, laetasvenantibus artis, auspicio, Diana, tuo,” I begin to recite. “I sing inthanks for the gifts of the gods, and for those gifts, O Diana, which are underyour auspices, for those skills in which hunters delight.”

Unfortunately for us, this is a long poem. Butwe’ve all agreed that Lucia doesn’t need to learn it. After I’ve taught themall six stanzas, we make sacrifices out of almost all the goods we brought,including the hooves of several recently slaughtered calves. “Ew,” I say,disgusted.

“As far as I’m concerned, Diana can have anentire giraffe,” Gaius says. “We need her. Come on, let’s pray.”

We all pray sincerely and devotedly to the altarof Diana. We also pray to the small altar of Vulcan that Cassius has fashioned,and we invoke them both. Then we line up, face the grassy fields of the CircusCallia, and ready ourselves for a challenge.

First, Gaius makes us each explode a smallpackage of black powder by praying to Vulcan. It’s harder than I expected, butafter about thirty minutes, we’ve all made a successful attempt. Now it’s timeto try to make our iron missiles fly. This is the real test, and we’re alltense as Gaius lays out a practice ball for each of us. As it turns out, he hadmade an earlier trip to the field and stashed some behind a clump of grass sohe didn’t have to carry them all today.

On my first try, my ball gives a small hop andthen rolls several yards, which is more than I was hoping for. Marta’s rocks abit as though she nudged it with her toe, but it doesn’t even roll.

When his turn comes, Gaius’s ball is totallystill, and his face reflects his chagrin. Obviously embarrassed, he stands backto watch Cassius’s attempt. But it’s no better. Neither of the boys can get somuch as a teensy rocking motion.

“I didn’t want to say it, but I was expecting asmuch,” I tell them. Marta nods in agreement. “Diana is an inveterate man-hater.Remember the story of Actaeon, the hunter who happened upon her in the woodswhile she was bathing? She turned him into a stag, and he was torn to death byhis own hunting dogs.”

They look at each other, concern on their faces.“If only women can do this, how can it have any military value?” Cassius asks.

Gaius sighs heavily. “I hoped it wouldn’t cometo this, but an idea has crossed my mind. That’s why I let Olivia and Martacome,” he says.

We both snort in irritation. This is news, thatwe almost didn’t make the cut. How generous of him to include us.

“If we can teach women to aim these projectilesin large numbers,” Gaius continues, ignoring us, “that means we don’t have topull men out of the army to train them. Even a thousand women with this skillwould help swell our ranks, if this weapon turns out to be as deadly as I’mhoping. Of course, that’s assuming they canbe taught,” he says. He doesn’t look excited at the prospect. “Mind you,this would all be seriously illegal, and thus would require the approval of theentire College of Pontiffs and all the flamens, especially the FlamenMartialis.” Gaius glares at us accusingly, as though this is our fault. “Notthat the word illegal has any specialmeaning to you.”

This is a stunning revelation. The thought thatwomen, including Marta, Lucia, and I, could be instrumental in helping Parcaeto win the war makes me thrill with hope. I desperately want to try. “We can,”I say stubbornly. “We don’t have a choice. We have to learn or die or become slaves.”

After this, all attention turns to me and Martaas we fervently try to gain even a fraction of Lucia’s skill. Gaius and Cassiustry to make helpful suggestions. It is already late afternoon. We need abreakthrough desperately, because I don’t know when we’ll be able to get backto the Circus Callia again.

“Lucia, is there anything you did, anything youvisualized, that helped you make the ball fly?” Cassius asks her.

“Um, well, I thought about her bow,” Lucia says.“That’s why I held my fist up, like this.” She demonstrates. “I pretended I washolding a bow. I guess we could even try pulling back an imaginary string.”

Encouraged, Marta and I try the bow technique.It helps tremendously. My ball flies more than forty yards, and Marta’s gains agood twenty. We both cheer and dance around each other, thrilled, but Gaius isunimpressed. “That’s great. If we can get the enemy to come up close for a hug,we can definitely obliterate them.”

“Good job, girls,” Cassius breaks insupportively with a smile. “We’re still making progress. That’s what’simportant.” I’m so grateful to him for being here with us now. Gaius is aserious de-motivator.

“What if I asked Diana to help you?” says Lucia.“I think she would listen to me. I think we’re friends now.”

“Really? Will she let you do her hair?” gaspsMarta in mock enthusiasm.

“Shut up,” says Lucia, “or I’ll ask her to turnyou into a beaver or something.” Then she closes her eyes and stands closebehind me, her palms upturned. “Dear Diana, please listen closely to my friendOlivia and help her when she prays to you. She’s special.”

“Thank you,” I murmur to her.

Then she moves to Marta. “Dear Diana,” sheprays, “Please help my friend Marta, who is a horrible shrew but whom I love,by listening to her prayers. She obviously needs all the help she can get.”Marta snorts. I think she is simultaneously irritated and moved.

On our next attempt, our iron balls fly in ahigh arc across the circus, covering more than a thousand yards and slamminginto the far distant tree line, as Lucia’s did. We’re all stunned. No onespeaks.

“We did it,” Marta whispers.

“Oh my gods,” Gaius says fervently. “Wait here.”He goes running to his other bag, still hidden in the ditch on the other sideof the track. When he returns, he’s holding another iron ball, identical to thefirst.

“Lucia, this is extremely dangerous,” he says toher carefully. “This is the finished weapon. It is an iron ball packed withexplosives. You need to make it fly into the trees, and then detonate it.Please be careful. If this goes wrong, we could all die.”

“Duh!”she snaps. “Why does everyone talk to me like I’m an idiot? Don’t answer that,”she says to Marta, cutting off what surely would have been a snotty comment.

Gaius makes everybody stand as far away fromLucia as possible, going so far as to make us hunker in the ditch with thewhining mosquitoes buzzing around us. We can only watch by peering over thetop.

“Oh my gods, please don’t let her blow herselfup,” he whispers, frantic with worry, his face in his hands. I think he needsto give her a little more credit. At this point, she’s proven she can handleherself. “Get down, everyone,” Gaius nags us.

Ignoring him, we watch Lucia straighten herselfup, square her shoulders, and take a deep breath. She holds her hand out. Shecounts to three. As before, she propels the ball through the air toward thetree line. I try to watch, but Gaius shoves me down with unnecessary force,sending me rolling into the bottom of the ditch. There is a massive explosion.

As thesmoke clears, I scramble back up so I can see the results of the detonation.Where there was formerly a distant grove, there is now a smoking pile ofshattered trees. The extent of the devastation fills me with awe.

“Oh,shit,”Gaius says in disbelief. “We are going to destroy them.”