Domina Triumphans

Chapter 1: 79 AD, Campania, Italia

"Open the theatres, the circus, and temples," he said. "We'll need meeting points and shelters."

He backtracked and poked his head in the side door of his home.

"Victory!"

His wife of fifty-three years came around a corner, a basket of medical instruments in her hand and two capsae, or cylindrical leather cases for bandages, slung over her shoulder. A trained medic and midwife, she knew more of what to do than he did.

"I see it," she said.

They ran toward his office in the forum or city square. Panicked vacationers trailed him. Not in the mood, he turned on them.

"You see what's happening! If you want to live, get your asses out of town. Get to Capua or Cales."

He repeated his message as he elbowed his way through the crowded streets. He found Prince Alexander of Mauretania.

"I need you to ride to Rome, let the August One know what's going on. We need help down here."

"Yes, Sir!" Alexander said.

He heard someone shout his name.

"Messala!"

He turned to see Antonius Primus and Praetorian Tribune Malchis Barca, already on horseback.

"Father's ordered the evacuation of the town," Primus said.

"Hot damn, I'm already on that!" Messala snapped.

He joined several other Senators, officers, and town officials already gathering in the largest administration building at the forum. Citizens crowded around, demanding answers. Messala raised his hands for quiet.

"We are evacuating the town, take what you can carry, and get to Capua or Cales!"

....

The forum in Cales never settled down, no matter the time of day. Situated near the coast of Campania, it was an anchor town for the Via Latina, a major artery to the Appian Way, which ran from the Port of Brundisium and up the boot of Italy to Rome. The Vinicius family were the main landowners in the area, and their vineyards produced the finest wines in Italy. Marcus Vinicius, a forty-six-year-old former general and now gentleman farmer made his way through the crowds. He had just finished a conference with his accountant and banker and needed a late lunch before going home. He found a taberna and got in the line to the counter. As he waited, he scanned the horizon. A large plume of smoke rose in the distant sky.

"Looks like it finally blew," another man said.

Others also noticed, and reached the same conclusion. Marcus forgot about lunch. Within hours, Cales and so many other cities would be overloaded with refugees, many badly wounded. He left the line and found a side street, entering the vestibule of a large domus or townhouse. An overseer or leader of the local Christian community lived there. Marcus had never converted, but his wife and daughters were devout and he attended meetings on special occasions.

"Is your master home?" he asked a doorman.

The servant left and Marcus pondered his next moves. The Christian came into his atrium.

"General Vinicius," he said. "A pleasure to see you."

"And you, Pudens," Marcus said. "But my errand is not pleasant. Vesuvius just blew."

"Dear God in Heaven!" Pudens said. "We'll have people coming this way."

"My thoughts exactly," Vinicius said. "I came to offer my help."

"You are the most qualified," Pudens said.

He called his servants and sent them to find other Overseers and Elders scattered through the city. Then he and Vinicius began tallying up possible supplies and places for food and aid stations. They could tell from the street noise that more people were becoming aware of the disaster and starting to panic.

...

Victoria looked around her at bedlam. Despite orders to the contrary, people had loaded up carts and pack animals, and many were using litters or even traveling chariots, large four-wheeled, horse-drawn vehicles that took up most of the road space. Pedestrians stood little chance in the chaos and were trying to muddle along on the curbs of the road. A pregnant woman huddled in pain, cradling her belly and trying to herd three small children.

Victoria knew that sudden, emergency childbirths and miscarriages were likely, caught the woman's attention and led her off the trail behind a bush. They spread a blanket carried by the oldest child and she helped the mother lay down on it.

"We can get through this," Victoria said. "I'm a midwife. Just do what I say."

As she paced the mother through her contractions, she could hear Julius and Flavius bellowing orders. Like most military men, they had almost no patience for civilians. Victoria disagreed. Dispaced people were never disciplined and rarely followed orders. Such was life. Berating them only made their behavior worse. She guided the baby through the birth canal as the mother struggled for breath. Smoke and ash were now thick in the air, making breathing difficult. The child was squalling as Victoria lifted him up for his mother to see.

"We have a little recruit here," she said. "And he's already got the lungs for a parade ground."

Victoria snipped the cord as the mother clasped the child to her breast. She could feed him. Where the others would get food was anyone's guess. Victoria delivered the afterbirth and cleaned the mother up as best she could.

"You'll have to get up and keep moving," she said. "You can't stay here."

She pulled the mother to her feet and guided the family back to the roadside. Another pregnant woman in distress huddled by a milestone. Victoria helped her stand, found another bush, and repeated the process. It would be a long night.

....

Iullus Bricius had alerted Capua, Cales, and several other towns and was now on his way back toward the Bay. All roads leading out of the area were packed. He came to a rise and looked toward Vesuvius. The top and side of the volcano glowed red. As he watched, a chunk of the mountain facing Pompeii tore away, molten lava rolling toward Pompeii, Herculaneum, and he guessed Oplontis. No one was alive in those towns now.