The Divining

     "Great Caesar," Vatinius cried, "in honor of your Jubilee Year, I give you the insurgent Barbarian who has led campaigns against Rome for thirty years. Wulf, who claims to be the son of Arminius!"

     Ulrika reached for Sebastianus as the man in chains was led through the crowd. She filled her eyes with the sight of him—he was tall and broad, his long blond hair in tangles and braids and streaked with gray, his beard long and gray. He wore a dark brown tunic of rough homespun cloth, leather leggings, and fur boots that reached his knees. A man in his late fifties, he walked with an erect posture, and a proud bearing of his head. He looked neither right nor left, but directly at Caesar.

     Ulrika struggled for breath. There stood the man she had dreamed of since she was a child, had fantasized about, had yearned to meet. He had filled her girlhood thoughts and blazed across her imagination in heroic proportions. She had searched for him. She had been told he was dead.

     She saw a look of keen pleasure on Nero's face and she was suddenly sick to her stomach. She knew what that wicked smile meant.

     All of Rome gossiped about Nero's failure to secure victories in his name. The war with Parthia had ended the year before with Rome agreeing to a truce, and while Nero had been successful in quelling the revolt inBritain led by Queen Boudica, he had been robbed of a victory celebration when Boudica had committed suicide. Everyone in the audience chamber understood the significance of Vatinius's surprise gift for his emperor.

     Nero made a show of rising from his throne and approaching the general. "How is it I was not informed of this?"

     Vatinius smiled. "The capture is recent, Caesar, and the few men who knew of it were sworn to secrecy. I wished to make it a surprise."

     "Well done, noble Vatinius!" Nero said as he circled the prisoner, looking him up and down in satisfaction. "I will hold games in your honor, General. You are a hero of the empire."

     The onlookers erupted in cheers and Ulrika felt herself go cold with fear.

     "For you, Barbarian," Nero said with glee, "we will have a special punishment in the arena. Perhaps I will pit Sebastianus Gallus against you. Barbarian against Roman patrician. And see who wins!"

     Ulrika's heart went out to her father. She wanted to run to him, embrace him, and protect him.

     Thirty-three years ago my father was taken prisoner during a battle in Germania and sold on the slave market. Three years later, he left my mother in Persia, at her urging, to return to the Rhineland and fight General Vatinius. And then, a mere ten years ago, General Vatinius dined in Aunt Paulina's house and bragged about his military strategy against my father, vowing to end the German insurgency once and for all. And now here we are.

     It must not end this way.

     Finding her voice, Ulrika said, "Great Caesar, the emerald has spoken to me. There is a woman here who wishes to be heard. A very powerful woman with a message for you. But I must now demand a higher price in exchange."

     Vatinius turned and gave Ulrika a perplexed look.

     The Barbarian also turned. He stared for a long moment at her face, a look of puzzlement in his blue eyes. And then Ulrika saw his lips move, and she read the one silent word he mouthed: "Selene ... ?"

     Nero frowned, displeased at the interruption, but intrigued also. "I do not bargain. And if I am satisfied that you possess the powers you claim to, I will keep you here in the palace, as my conduit to the spirit world."

     Ulrika shook her head. "No, Caesar, you ca

     When General Vatinius began to protest, Nero silenced him. "Show me what you can do. If I am pleased, then I will grant your wish and let these men go. Who is this powerful woman who sends me a message?"

     Forgive me, Sebastianus, she thought. Perhaps this is why the Goddess brought me to this place at this time—to set you and my father free.

     "Great Caesar," Ulrika said, as everyone watched, anxiously anticipating her message from the spirit world. As she braced herself for the emperor's reaction to his mother's final words—"Smite my womb"—she was distracted by movement at the corner of her eye. Had someone stepped forward? She turned.

     The wolf was there, sitting beside her father. Golden eyes fixed on her.

     Ulrika stared. Was it indeed her wolf-spirit?

     "Get on with it!" Nero snapped.

     Yes, it was the spirit, because no one else saw the creature.

     He is here for a reason ...

     She looked at her father and thought: His name is Wulf. And twenty-nine years ago, at the hour of my birth, I was given the name Ulrika, which means "wolf power." There was a reason for it, and now I know what that reason is.

     All things are co

     And in that moment, Ulrika remembered another wolf, and she knew that the gods had come to her aid.

     She grew calm. This was the moment for which she had been born. From the hour of her birth in faraway Persia, through all the miles and yearsshe had traveled, all the people she had encountered, both helpful and hindering, all the learnings, the awakenings, and the love of the finest man on earth—her road had brought her to this crucial hour.

     And suddenly it was not Agrippina with whom she was in contact.

     "Well?" Nero said impatiently.

     "Great Caesar," she said, "we stand on a holy place. Your palace was built on Rome's most sacrosanct spot. Romulus and Remus were suckled on this hill by a she-wolf."

     "Every child knows that," Nero snapped, referring to the legend of twin brothers Romulus and Remus, said to be the sons of the god Mars and a Vestal Virgin. Because their mother had broken her vow of chastity, the infants were placed in a wooden trough and set upon the waters of the River Tiber. The tide carried the trough ashore, where the babies were found by a she-wolf. Instead of killing them, the wolf took care of them and suckled them with her milk. They grew to manhood and to become the founders of the city of Rome.

     "The woman who is here," Ulrika said, "wanting to be heard ... her name is unfamiliar to me. She speaks an archaic form of Latin."

     "What is this specter's name?" Doubt and suspicion in his tone.

     "She is called Rhea Silvia. She brings a message."

     "Stop!"

     All turned to the Chief Vestal, who gestured to Ulrika. "Come forward." When Ulrika stood before her, the priestess said, "You dare to claim to be in contact with Rome's first Chief Vestal?"

     "She is in contact with me, honored lady. And she has a message."

     "Tell it to me," the priestess said. "Whisper it so that no one else can hear."