Pompeii: Death Comes Calling

By Lorraine Blundell

POMPEII:
DEATH COMES CALLING

'They said there were ghosts here'
79 A.D. Painters, perfumers, prostitutes and priestesses Pompeii has them all and more. Life for some is noisy, colourful and sometimes deadly dangerous. For others, it is filled with luxury, affluence and the fulfilment of their every desire.

Flavia, the arrogant and beautiful daughter of wealthy parents schemes to avoid an arranged marriage.
Vinicius, a vicious, paid killer roams the city streets by night murdering while its citizens sleep.
Aelianus, a young slave far from home is sold in the marketplace to Pompeii's gladiator lanista.
Aurelia, Pompeii's first female career fresco painter feuds with a jealous male competitor.
Isidora, jilted by her lover in Egypt, arrives in Pompeii to reunite with her brother.
Senator Lucius Diomedes, grieving for his dead wife, seeks meaning from life.

Their destinies become intertwined in a deadly dance as a mountain of fire changes everything forever in a cruel lottery of life or death. What happens afterwards to those who escape will be beyond anything they could ever imagine.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Jun 9, 2017
• ISBN: 9781524682071

Lorraine Blundell

Lorraine Blundell (Dance), a gold award winning author, was born in Brisbane, Australia. She lives in Melbourne and has a daughter, Jenni, and a son, Steve. Lorraine graduated from the University of Queensland with a Bachelor of Arts Degree majoring in English and History. She holds a teaching qualification in Drama from Trinity College, London. She trained as a classical singer at the Queensland State Conservatorium of Music, Brisbane. During that period, she sang professionally on television as a solo vocalist, regularly performing for six years on channels BTQ7 and QTQ9 Brisbane as well as nationally on HSV7 Melbourne. She is an experienced performer in musical theatre productions. Her interests are singing, ancient history and archaeology.

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© 2017A Novel Lorraine Blundell . All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 06/07/2017

ISBN: 978-1-5246-8192-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5246-8207-1 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

CHARACTERS

PROLOGUE

PART I

Flavia

1

2

Vinicius

3

4

Aelianus

5

Aurelia

6

7

8

Isidora

9

Senator Lucius Diomedes

10

11

PART II

12

13

14

15

16

17

18

19

PART III

20

Flavia

21

Vinicius

22

Aelianus

23

24

25

Aurelia

26

27

Isidora

28

Senator Lucius Diomedes

29

30

31

32

33

34

PART IV

35

36

GLOSSARY

AUTHOR’S NOTES

HISTORICAL NOTES

SITE LOCATIONS

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

THE AUTHOR

BOOK CLUB DISCUSSION NOTES

OTHER NOVELS BY THIS AUTHOR

The Whispers Series

WHISPERS FROM POMPEII

CLEOPATRA: WHISPERS FROM THE NILE

MEDICI: THE QUEEN’S PERFUME

THE TITUS CONSPIRACY

ARSINOE OF EPHESUS (Novella)

For Steve & Jenni

Stand at the bottom of the great market-place of Pompeii and look up the silent streets, through the ruined temples of Jupiter and Isis, over the broken houses with their inmost sanctuaries open to the day…and lose all count of time…

Pictures from Italy

Charles Dickens

CHARACTERS

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PROLOGUE

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POMPEII

80 A.D.

Senator Marcus Lucius Diomedes

T hey said there were ghosts here.

I stood alone at the edge of a scene that could have been stolen straight from Hades. As the hot wind blew forcefully into my face, I could well believe that in my mind I heard the tortured cries from the spirits of the damned.

The worst thing of all was the unending silence around me.

Not a tree had been left standing. No human voice disturbed the nightmare before me. Instead of a city I saw a place deluged by the evil, deadly muck vomited out from Vesuvius.

Streets, villas, temples and public buildings had been buried by pumice and covered in ash and stones, roofs collapsing inwards under their weight. A deadly pyroclastic flow had killed the terrified people sheltering in them.

I was unaware of the bitter tears flowing down my face. Pompeii was my city. It had been vibrant, noisy and filled with the vitality of life. Now all I saw was utter devastation.

What had its inhabitants done to deserve such a fate?

I turned and retraced my steps. My only consolation was that my beloved wife, Alessia, who had died several years before the eruption, hadn’t witnessed the destruction of the city she’d loved so passionately.

The report to Emperor Titus on whose orders I was assessing the situation, would state that this city could not be rebuilt.

Pompeii would never rise again.

My thoughts, unwanted, went back some months to the people and events that had led up to that terrible day. The memories were so clear that it seemed like only yesterday….

DROP IN

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PART I

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Flavia

Vinicius

Aelianus

Aurelia

Isidora

Lucius

Flavia

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1

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POMPEII

79 A.D.

Villa of Senator Tullius Rufrius Crispinus

Vicolo di Championnet

C loser! Closer still!

Inch by inch Flavia slowly stretched her hand out towards the yellow-red centre of the flame dancing in the wall flare. Lit only minutes before by a servant as dusk fell, it was one of several lining the hallway. She gasped as the flame licked at her fingers and she felt the first sting of contact. Quickly, she pulled away, her need for pain temporarily satiated.

But she knew that she’d be back.

Leaving the villa she walked casually past the Temple of Venus towards the Marine Gate. Her departure went unseen by the servants, their attention focused on preparations for the evening meal to come. Only a few stragglers still loitered in the streets, most having returned to their homes or places of refuge for the night as evening’s shadows lengthened. The huge forum stood virtually deserted and the solid wooden doors of the basilica were firmly shut. The air felt warm on her face at the end of a hot, sunny day, but the worst of the ferocious heat that overwhelmed Pompeii’s citizens in the height of summer was thankfully past.

As night made its unhurried approach Flavia heard the gentle lapping of darkening water against the slimy steps of the rear entrance to the bathhouse, built against the city wall. Her senses detected the ever-increasing, distinctive buzzing of the cicadas. She smelt the reeking of decaying vegetation from the nearby boggy mudflats and beside the mouth of the canal where it met the sea, the palafitte stilt houses could just be seen, their lamps shining dimly through the wet darkness. A misty, dreamlike haze hung over the city as night washed away the colour from Pompeii’s world.

Flavia sat down on the grass beside the water and considered her situation. Could she persuade her father to change his mind, even now, about marrying her to his friend’s son? At the moment, it didn’t appear so. Cerylus was middle-aged, well built, but unattractive, his face bearing pitting on his cheeks from earlier youthful skin problems. But he did have one major asset to recommend him. He would inherit his father Numerius’ considerable fortune.

Flavia had learned very early how to get what she wanted, but this time was different. For once her father was blind to her pleading.

Your father was a senator! Your father was a senator!

Flavia could hear her mother’s words spinning round and round in her head. She was sick and tired of hearing them. She knew that she’d get no support from her. Any suitor would need to have money or prestige, preferably both, before her mother would be happy.

Tall, with dark, lustrous hair, intelligent brown eyes and a lovely oval-shaped face, Flavia was a most attractive young woman. She shuddered at the thought of the marriage. After all, she rather had her eye on Licinius, the handsome but impoverished son of a local merchant. Her obstinacy was further strengthened by the knowledge that her share of her own father’s wealth after he died, would be more than enough to provide a very comfortable life for her and any partner that she chose.

She shuddered at the thought of Cerylus’ hands roaming over her body. It made her feel physically ill.

Flavia sat for a long time alone in the dark. Finally, she retraced her steps to the villa. The large theatre, its outline barely visible, rose to her right and to her left standing sentinel against the background, further away beyond the city walls she could just make out the shape of the hulking mass of Vesuvius, the mountain that loomed over Pompeii.

The palatial family villa in which Flavia lived was one of the most extravagant in the city. Huge in size, with a breathtaking view of the sea and exquisitely furnished, it was confirmation of her father’s political success.

Extensive gardens filled with figs, silvery olive trees, cloyingly sweet pink oleanders and trees bearing vibrant, red pomegranates surrounded it. A variety of herbs provided everything a cook could hope for, and formal hedges and fountains as well as statues completed the idyllic setting.

The lowest level, reached by narrow stone steps, led to the servants’ quarters consisting of numerous small, sparsely furnished rooms. They were tiny, but they were dry and warm in winter. They also provided security for their occupants. Any real discomfort was due to the intense heat during summer.

Flavia finally arrived home where she walked nonchalantly down the hallway and into the triclinium. Other members of the family had already taken their places.

‘Where have you been?’ her father asked abruptly. ‘I was just about to send the servants out to search for you.’ Obviously unimpressed, he frowned across at her, annoyed by her lack of courtesy.

‘I went walking and forgot the time,’ Flavia answered defensively. I’m sorry I’m late,’ she added after a few moments, in an effort to pacify the situation. The expression on her face failed to reflect her words.

Somewhat mollified, Rufrius chose to ignore her obvious insincerity and nodded to her to sit. ‘I suppose you’ve remembered that Numerius and Cerylus are visiting for dinner tomorrow evening? For once, you need to be here to greet them on time.’

‘You don’t really think that I could forget!’ Flavia’s expression darkened. ‘I’ve told you. I want to marry someone else!’

‘How many times do I have to repeat myself? You’ll do what I tell you whether you like it or not. I won’t have a daughter of mine married to someone who is incapable of providing comfortably for her. Cerylus will come into a large fortune. And we all know, don’t we Flavia, what expensive tastes you have!’

Determination was evident in Rufrius’ tone.

Flavia flushed angrily but didn’t reply, deciding instead to show her hostility by remaining sulky for the rest of the meal. She glared at the slave who offered her a delicious dessert drizzled with honey. Those at the table fell silent, their evening ruined.

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The next morning Flavia kicked viciously at a stone that lay beside her foot. Her sandal sent it spinning into the rose garden opposite where she sat beside the water fountain. Unfortunately, the soothing sound of its gurgling did little to pacify her fury. She spent the day feeling sorry for herself. That evening, dinner with Numerius and Cerylus didn’t go well. She refused to talk to anyone and sat like a stone statue all night making no attempt whatever at pleasantries.

The household had been preparing for the dinner for days. The villa and everything in it gleamed and shone, the gardens were immaculate and the kitchen had been working at full capacity to prepare the delicacies to be served. The meal was elaborate with numerous courses including offerings of sea urchins, fish, oysters, stuffed lambs’ testicles and starlings decorated with exotic blue and green peacocks’ feathers, as well as cool ices. The famous Pompeii local garum fish sauce was readily available and Falernian and Vesuviano wine flowed freely.

Everything aimed to impress to the utmost degree.

Flavia’s father was seething even this morning because of her behaviour. It had apparently passed relatively un-noticed by their guests, however, who apparently mistook her silence for shyness in the company of her soon to be announced fiancé.

Now, inside the villa, she could hear her mother giving instructions to one of the slaves. The daily ritual of placing flowers throughout the villa had begun. She sensed rather than heard her mother’s footsteps approaching and sighed as she came into view.

‘Flavia, are you still sitting out here?’ Caelina asked irritably. A matron of average height whose figure was a little more ample than usually considered desirable, she could still be described as pretty, especially when she smiled. At the moment, however, she definitely wasn’t smiling. She glared at Flavia.

‘You’re forbidden to see or speak to the merchant’s son, Licinius, again! Your father doesn’t approve of him. Neither do I for that matter.’

‘How did you know?’

For once, Flavia looked flustered.

‘One does tend to hear rumours about these things when her daughter is consorting with a young man of that type.’ Her mother’s voice was sharp.

‘He was only talking to me,’ Flavia retorted petulantly. ‘You don’t like him just because his father isn’t wealthy enough!’

‘That’s not the only reason and you know it. The boy’s no good, daughter. I’m sorry to say that his reputation precedes him! He’s reported to have made one girl pregnant already. Imagine her disgrace! You know how important it is for you to have no stain attached to your name.’

Angrily, Flavia turned to face Caelina. ‘I’m never going to meet anyone suitable to marry anyway, the way things are going,’ she snapped, ‘so my reputation’s not going to matter is it? Surely father could have chosen somewhere other than Pompeii to retire, then I would have had more choice.’

‘You don’t think you’re over-reacting just a little?’ her mother responded, her tone of voice more mellow.

‘What would you know anyway? You’ve never even been in love!’ Flavia jumped up and hurried towards her bedroom where she shoved the wooden partition to her room closed.

Caelina took the place by the fountain that her daughter had occupied and shook her head. Flavia’s looks and social position made her a tantalising marriage prospect. Despite what she’d said, her suitors could be expected to come from Rome’s elite not just Pompeii’s and they would be both wealthy and patrician.

There was just one problem. Flavia’s temperament was not as appealing as her looks. Caelina hesitated to admit it even to herself, but her daughter was wilful, quick-tempered and undisciplined. Her very physical presence had overt sexual vibes not considered appropriate for an innocent young woman. Caelina was certain that her daughter was still relatively inexperienced, but that didn’t alter the fact that she naturally drew men to her like bees to a honeypot.

It would take an older, preferably experienced man to tame Flavia, but that should not be a dilemma. As with Cerylus, her suitors were unlikely to be young. Should Flavia sully her reputation, however, such a man would look elsewhere for a more appropriate marriage partner.

On reaching her room Flavia threw herself on the bed. What would her mother know about love anyway! She’d married her father in an arranged match when she was very young. There was no way Flavia intended to marry someone she didn’t love. Opening the door she saw the slave, Livinia, passing through the garden. No doubt she was hurrying to complete her tasks but that didn’t enter into Flavia’s thoughts.

‘Come here!’ she ordered in an imperious tone of voice.

‘Yes, Domina.’ The girl hurried over and bowed before her. She had a dusky skin tone, amber coloured eyes and a sweet nature that for some reason irritated Flavia. The slave kept her eyes downcast.

‘My room doesn’t smell pleasant,’ the daughter of the house complained in a harsh voice. ‘I want the floor washed again and fresh flowers brought in.’

‘But I only placed them here a few minutes ago,’ Livinia responded softly.

‘Are you refusing? I’ll have you flogged!’ Flavia raised her voice angrily, threatening the girl.

‘No, Domina. I’ll bring the flowers immediately,’ Livinia assured her meekly, then scurried away.

Caelina saw the girl running from Flavia’s bedroom and wondered what her daughter had done this time to upset Livinia. She was one of the favourite slaves in the household. Caelina decided to intervene if she saw this morning’s incident repeated. It was her responsibility to see that the house ran smoothly and she was determined that it would do so.

Inside her room Flavia gave a nasty smile. In her opinion, a person should know their place in society.

She certainly knew hers.

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Flavia awoke the next day her boredom forgotten as she thought about the shopping ahead. She planned to visit her best friend, Tullia. She was a pretty girl of limited intelligence, easily led and completely under Flavia’s influence. Her home enjoyed an acceptable location not far from the forum. The tolerance of the girls’ friendship by Rufrius and Caelina owed much to the fact that Tullia’s father was a respected member of Pompeii’s city council. They were not unaware, however, of Tullia’s lack of capacity to know her own mind. Thus, she provided no tempering balance to their daughter’s often impulsive and reckless behaviour.

‘Livinia!’ Flavia yelled impatiently from her bedroom.

The slave girl appeared almost instantly at her summons. Aware of Flavia’s temper, she made sure that she was right outside her door as the sun rose each day. At those times when her mistress slept late, the slave girl sat on the stone bench outside the door, waiting.

‘Help me to dress and be quick about it. I’m going out!’

‘Yes, Domina.’

Flavia knew that she was supposed to take a chaperone with her whenever she left the house. This would not be the first time, however, that she’d flouted the rules under which she was expected to live as a young woman from an elite family.

Ensuring with a glance outside her bedroom and into the garden that there was no one there to see her, Flavia slipped out of one of the villa’s side doors and set off alone towards Tullia’s house on Vicolo del Farmacista. No one noticed her as they passed by and no one bothered her. It annoyed Flavia that it was a walk of ten to fifteen minutes, but soon after coming within sight of the forum she arrived at Tullia’s house.

‘Good morning, Domina. Please come in.’ One of the household slaves admitted her. Flavia was well known to those in the household – not always for the best of reasons.

‘Where’s Tullia?’ she asked abruptly.

‘In her room I believe, Lady.’

Flavia swept