Roma

Arrows whistled though the air, followed by screams and the chaotic sounds of the Gauls retreating in a sudden panic.

Dorso quickly escorted Pinaria away from the barricade, out of harm’s way. “It was your blessing, Vestal, that did the trick,” he whispered. “I felt the goddess of the hearth looking over us every step of the way.”

“Did you? Did you truly feel Vesta’s presence?” Pinaria looked from Dorso to Pe

“Something must have protected us,” said Pe

Dorso and Pe

Could it be as Dorso said? Could it be that Vesta had watched over and protected both men, despite Pinaria’s impure feelings? Or had Pe

Either Vesta knew of Pinaria’s passion for the slave, and approved of it—mad thought!—or Vesta was gone, perhaps forever, and no longer held sway over her devoted virgin—another mad thought! In either case, Pinaria knew, in a blinding flash, that no impediment remained to hold her feelings in check. The realization dazzled her. The ground gave way beneath her and the sky cracked open.

She looked at Pe

In that moment, Pinaria was lost, and she knew it. She burst into tears. Those who had gathered to welcome Dorso assumed they were tears of joy and relief, and men bowed their heads at the sight of a sacred virgin so deeply moved by the evidence of the gods’ continuing favor for the people of Roma.

There was little privacy to be had among the defenders atop the Capitoline, but such privacy as could be arranged was given to the Vestal who dwelled among them. While others slept in the open, or crowded together inside the temples and public buildings, a small chamber in the foundations of the Temple of Jupiter was given to Pinaria for her sole use.

The entrance to Pinaria’s room was at the back of the temple, out of sight. It was Pe

One night, there came a soft knocking on Pinaria’s door.

The hour was late, but Pinaria was not asleep. She rose from her bed and went to the door at once. She did not bother to ask who was knocking.

She opened the door and saw his head and shoulders silhouetted by moonlight. Her first thought was that he was mad to come to her on a night when the moon was so bright and might cast such a glaring light on his movements. What if he had been observed?

In the next instant he was inside, shutting the door behind him. Then his arms were around her and his body was pressed against hers. It was Pinaria who initiated the kiss, pressing her mouth to his. She had never kissed a man before. It seemed to her that they drew the same breath and shared the same heartbeat.

She was not accustomed to being naked, even among the other Vestals, but that was the way he wanted her. She allowed him to disrobe her, then helped him to take off his own tunic; she wanted no pretense that anything was being done solely at his behest, or against her will. Whatever might happen, it would not occur because she merely allowed it, but because she made it happen.

She knew a little about the basic act of sex, but she could not have imagined the sensations that accompanied it. The touch of his flesh against her own was thrilling, but nothing compared to the feeling when a part of his body actually entered her own and began to move inside her. There was a sharp pain at first, but it seemed a small thing to bear, compared to the pleasure that followed. The rhythm of the act was like a complicated dance, or a song of unearthly beauty, sometimes slow and languid, sometimes rushed and breathless. His rhythm inspired her to find a rhythm inside herself; she struggled to match his movements, cried out in frustration at the sudden awkwardness of it, and then, laughing breathlessly, clutching his hips, she demanded that his rhythm match her own. He submitted, resisted, submitted again. They seemed to be in competition for a while, and then almost at odds, and then, without warning, in perfect, ecstatic harmony.

They reached the pi

The thing was done. There could be no turning back.

The occupation of the Gauls continued throughout the hot summer and into the autumn. Cooler days brought some relief to the defenders atop the Capitoline, but their hunger increased. Rations were reduced to a handful of bread and a cup of wine a day.

House by house, the Gauls continued to pillage and burn the city below, poisoning the air with smoke. After the failure of their initial attempts, the Gauls stopped laying siege to the Capitoline, but sentries still kept constant watch around the perimeter.

On an autumn night when the air was cool but acrid with smoke, Pinaria and Pe

Pinaria had been delighted but not surprised to discover that Pe

Through the little window, very faintly, they heard the cry of “All clear!” from the nearest sentry. The cry was echoed from various points around the perimeter of the barricades and cliffs. In the silence that followed, a goose let out a single, plaintive honk. To save them from the Gauls, the sacred geese of Juno had been brought from the goddess’s new temple on the Aventine and were being kept in an enclosure beside the Temple of Jupiter.

“We shall have to eat them soon,” said Pe

“The geese? They’re sacred to Juno,” said Pinaria.

“But what good are geese to a goddess if all her worshipers die of starvation?”

“No one would dare to touch them.”

“Yet I’ve noticed that their ration of grain has been cut. Those geese are getting awfully ski