The Tribune's Curse by John Maddox Roberts Page B

priests were senators anyway. At least it was more colorful than usual, since most of the members of the various priestly colleges wore their robes and insignia of office. The Arvals wore wreaths of wheat ears, the augurs wore striped robes and carried their crook-headed staffs, the
flamines
wore their conical, white caps, and so forth. There was no
Flamen Dialis
that year. In fact, there had been none for more than twenty years. The duty was so laden with taboos as to make it too onerous for anyone in his right mind to want. The
virgo maxima
, rarely seen in the
curia
, sat next to Pompey, attended by her single lictor.
    Pompey stood from his curule chair, and the room fell silent. Well, almost silent. It was, after all, the Senate.
    “Conscript Fathers,” he began, “today Rome has suffered an unprecedented misfortune. A man who may not be touched by any legal authority has taken it upon himself to perform a terrible ceremony within the
pomerium
and before the assembled people. The implications of this ritual must be interpreted for us by thehighest religious authorities, and a suitable remedy and course of action must then be found. None here may speak of our deliberations outside this chamber. A single report will be written, and this will be delivered under seal to the
Pontifex Maximus
, Caius Julius Caesar, in Gaul. In his absence the next-highest authority will address us first.
Rex sacrorum
, speak to the Senate.”
    Pompey resumed his seat, and the King of Sacrifices rose from his front-row bench and turned to face the assembly. He was an aged priest named Lucius Claudius. He had held the office since he was a young man, and because it barred him from political life, he had devoted himself to the study of our religious institutions. Although he had never held public office, like all the highest priests he had a seat in the Senate with all its insignia and privileges, except that he had no vote.
    “Conscript Fathers,” he said, “I was not present at this desecration of the City, but the curse has been related to me in its entirety by qualified colleagues, and rest assured that this was a ritual of the utmost power, and one nearly certain to fall back upon the one who pronounced it. Furthermore, it was of a deadliness sufficient to destroy the City of Rome itself. Our City and our people have become ritually unclean and abhorrent to the immortal gods!”
    This pronouncement was so terrible that the whole Senate was actually silent for a while.
    “Tell us what we must do,” Pompey said, more frightened than he had ever been in battle.
    “First, and immediately, there must be a
lustrum
. Censors!” Servilius Vatia and Messala Niger stood. Vatia was a
pontifex
as well as a Censor. “Have you chosen the sacrificial victims for the
lustrum
required by your office?”
    Messala, the younger of the two, answered: “The ritual is always performed in May. We have been too occupied with the Census to look at sacrificial beasts.”
    “Then send out your assistants immediately. The rite must begin before sunrise tomorrow, and it must be completed, without failure or interruption, before sunset!”
    Vatia said: “That should be plenty of time—”
    “You misunderstand,” said the
rex sacrorum
. “This is not to be the conventional
lustrum
. The entire City must be purified before we can resume relations with our gods. That means that the sacrificial animals will not merely be carried around the citizens assembled by centuries on the Field of Mars. They must be carried around the entire circuit of the Servian Walls! Three times!”
    At this a great collective gasp went up. It would be an absolutely Herculean task, but nobody thought to protest. If we lay under so great a curse, no mere formality would impress the gods. I felt sorry for the men who would have to accomplish the feat. Pompey must have been reading my thoughts.
    “The people must see how seriously we regard this matter,” said the consul. “I want