Repertor
Artifex Imaginum
...Like a snail trying to catch up a hare...
What's the difference?
Never! You never ignore obvious danger.Since when have I ever ignored obvious danger?
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...Like a snail trying to catch up a hare... What's the difference?
Part 6: Marcus
Marcus was sprawled across one of his father’s couches. He looked very pleased with himself, as everything had gone like clockwork. He went and fetched himself an apple. Jasmine was out and there wasn’t a slave market till tomorrow, so today he’d just have to rough it and do his own fetching and carrying.
Jasmine. What to do about her? She was such a pompous cow, always knowing best. He couldn’t live with her. She’d have to go. Maybe he could arrange to marry her off to someone from a nice long way away. Possibly. It could be expensive.
He sighed. The problem would probably solve itself. He knew she hated him, and she would probably go of her own accord. True, she might keep saying that he’d murdered Calphurnus, but no-one would believe her. He smiled. No-one could afford to believe her.
He began to peel the apple.
She marched in, to see him sat like a lord, peeling an apple with the very same knife that had killed his father; the very same knife that had been used to incriminate Helena and Rebecca.
She was about to fly at him, when suddenly an iron self-control seized her.
“Oh Marcus! You poor man. You haven’t got anyone to peel your apple for you! Would you like me to do it for you?”
He looked at her. Had she come to her senses? Realised, and come to accept, the facts of life? Maybe, but handing her a lethal weapon at this moment was scarcely sensible.
“How kind of you, Jasmine, but please don’t trouble yourself. I’ll go out tomorrow and get some more slaves, just as pretty as Helena and Rebecca, don’t worry. Until then I’m sure we can manage. Did you have a nice walk? Where did you go?”
“I went to the South Gate.”
“Really? The West Gate is much finer. What drew you to the South Gate?”
“Crucifixion.”
“Oh, yes, of course. They crucified those murdering slaves. Really, Jasmine, you shouldn’t have gone. Crucifixion is such a messy business, it will only have upset you. Did they go well, the crucifixions?”
“Technically, yes, I believe so. Helena and Rebecca were stripped naked and nailed to their crosses, and they remained in place after the crosses were raised. They screamed an awful lot. I believe those are the hallmarks of a successful crucifixion.”
“Excellent.”
“They are still there now, of course.”
“Of course. It will take some hours, or even days, for them to die.”
“They were still screaming, when I left them.”
“Splendid. That serves them right for murdering my father, and it will act as an example to others.”
“You bastard.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You know perfectly well that they didn’t murder our father! And you know perfectly well who did! There they are, outside the South Gate, hanging on those crosses, screaming their lungs out, for something you did! So, I’ll tell you what you are going to do. You are going to go back to that arse-licking Proconsul, you are going to tell him the truth, and you are going to tell him to send his men to get those girls down!”
“Am I?”
“Yes. You are.”
“Had you forgotten that confessing murder has….consequences, even for a Roman Citizen?”
“You should have thought of that before you plunged that knife into our father’s chest!”
“Ah, but I did think of that. I think I tidied up rather nicely, don’t you?”
“Rebecca and Helena did not look ‘tidy’.”
“All right then.”
She looked at him.
“You’re right. They are innocent. It’s no use pretending otherwise. I considered them expendable, but you obviously think otherwise. It’s a shame, his money would have kept you in comfort, too. How about me telling the Proconsul that you murdered Father?”
“I am NOT going to confess to murdering Father to save your sorry neck!”
“You won’t have to. You’ll be dead.” He stood up, and approached her with the knife.
“You MURDERING BASTARD!” She screamed. “HOW DARE YOU! I HATE YOU!”
He’d have to hurry, the whole city would hear at this rate. He lunged across the room at her. She grabbed at his wrist, and just managed to deflect him, the knife just scratched her shoulder. But she was down, and he was on her. They wrestled with the knife, with her screaming “MURDERER! HELP!” at the top of her voice. But he was much, much too strong for her, and Jasmine knew that she couldn’t win this fight.
Gradually, he brought the knife around. She was pushing him off with both hands, but the knife was getting nearer and nearer to her throat. She shut her eyes. It was all over.
Then she opened them again. Marcus was making the strangest gurgling noise. He was no longer pushing the knife. His eyes were wide open. Blood was running from his mouth. He said one word “Bitch”, and then the light went out of his eyes.
She pushed him off. The cause of death was a large, ugly knife sticking out of his back. The owner of the knife was standing there, with blood on her hands, and shock on her face.
“CASSIA!”
“I…I… “
“Go – NOW! Go and wash your hands! QUICKLY! There’s water in the yard – through that door! GO!!”
Cassia turned and fled.
Jasmine hauled the knife out of his back, wiped it, and threw it under the couch. Then she took the first knife, the one that he had used on her father. “Bastard!” she cried, and stabbed him again. “Bastard! Bastard! Bastard! Bastard!”
She was still stabbing him when the Centurion and a decime of troops burst in, alerted by all the noise.
Marcus was sprawled across one of his father’s couches. He looked very pleased with himself, as everything had gone like clockwork. He went and fetched himself an apple. Jasmine was out and there wasn’t a slave market till tomorrow, so today he’d just have to rough it and do his own fetching and carrying.
Jasmine. What to do about her? She was such a pompous cow, always knowing best. He couldn’t live with her. She’d have to go. Maybe he could arrange to marry her off to someone from a nice long way away. Possibly. It could be expensive.
He sighed. The problem would probably solve itself. He knew she hated him, and she would probably go of her own accord. True, she might keep saying that he’d murdered Calphurnus, but no-one would believe her. He smiled. No-one could afford to believe her.
He began to peel the apple.
She marched in, to see him sat like a lord, peeling an apple with the very same knife that had killed his father; the very same knife that had been used to incriminate Helena and Rebecca.
She was about to fly at him, when suddenly an iron self-control seized her.
“Oh Marcus! You poor man. You haven’t got anyone to peel your apple for you! Would you like me to do it for you?”
He looked at her. Had she come to her senses? Realised, and come to accept, the facts of life? Maybe, but handing her a lethal weapon at this moment was scarcely sensible.
“How kind of you, Jasmine, but please don’t trouble yourself. I’ll go out tomorrow and get some more slaves, just as pretty as Helena and Rebecca, don’t worry. Until then I’m sure we can manage. Did you have a nice walk? Where did you go?”
“I went to the South Gate.”
“Really? The West Gate is much finer. What drew you to the South Gate?”
“Crucifixion.”
“Oh, yes, of course. They crucified those murdering slaves. Really, Jasmine, you shouldn’t have gone. Crucifixion is such a messy business, it will only have upset you. Did they go well, the crucifixions?”
“Technically, yes, I believe so. Helena and Rebecca were stripped naked and nailed to their crosses, and they remained in place after the crosses were raised. They screamed an awful lot. I believe those are the hallmarks of a successful crucifixion.”
“Excellent.”
“They are still there now, of course.”
“Of course. It will take some hours, or even days, for them to die.”
“They were still screaming, when I left them.”
“Splendid. That serves them right for murdering my father, and it will act as an example to others.”
“You bastard.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You know perfectly well that they didn’t murder our father! And you know perfectly well who did! There they are, outside the South Gate, hanging on those crosses, screaming their lungs out, for something you did! So, I’ll tell you what you are going to do. You are going to go back to that arse-licking Proconsul, you are going to tell him the truth, and you are going to tell him to send his men to get those girls down!”
“Am I?”
“Yes. You are.”
“Had you forgotten that confessing murder has….consequences, even for a Roman Citizen?”
“You should have thought of that before you plunged that knife into our father’s chest!”
“Ah, but I did think of that. I think I tidied up rather nicely, don’t you?”
“Rebecca and Helena did not look ‘tidy’.”
“All right then.”
She looked at him.
“You’re right. They are innocent. It’s no use pretending otherwise. I considered them expendable, but you obviously think otherwise. It’s a shame, his money would have kept you in comfort, too. How about me telling the Proconsul that you murdered Father?”
“I am NOT going to confess to murdering Father to save your sorry neck!”
“You won’t have to. You’ll be dead.” He stood up, and approached her with the knife.
“You MURDERING BASTARD!” She screamed. “HOW DARE YOU! I HATE YOU!”
He’d have to hurry, the whole city would hear at this rate. He lunged across the room at her. She grabbed at his wrist, and just managed to deflect him, the knife just scratched her shoulder. But she was down, and he was on her. They wrestled with the knife, with her screaming “MURDERER! HELP!” at the top of her voice. But he was much, much too strong for her, and Jasmine knew that she couldn’t win this fight.
Gradually, he brought the knife around. She was pushing him off with both hands, but the knife was getting nearer and nearer to her throat. She shut her eyes. It was all over.
Then she opened them again. Marcus was making the strangest gurgling noise. He was no longer pushing the knife. His eyes were wide open. Blood was running from his mouth. He said one word “Bitch”, and then the light went out of his eyes.
She pushed him off. The cause of death was a large, ugly knife sticking out of his back. The owner of the knife was standing there, with blood on her hands, and shock on her face.
“CASSIA!”
“I…I… “
“Go – NOW! Go and wash your hands! QUICKLY! There’s water in the yard – through that door! GO!!”
Cassia turned and fled.
Jasmine hauled the knife out of his back, wiped it, and threw it under the couch. Then she took the first knife, the one that he had used on her father. “Bastard!” she cried, and stabbed him again. “Bastard! Bastard! Bastard! Bastard!”
She was still stabbing him when the Centurion and a decime of troops burst in, alerted by all the noise.
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Repertor
Artifex Imaginum
Now Jasmine is really in trouble.
Caught red handed, litterally.
theseus
SERVILIS CURATOR
Oh dear! Of course Roman citizens could not be crucified, but I'm sure someone will work something out.
Repertor
Artifex Imaginum
But she can be beheaded and under certain exceptional circumstances citizens can be deprived of his citizenship.
Marcius
Tribune
It was a custom and not a law (admittedly the lines between the two were very much blurred in Rome). There are several known cases of Roman citizens of non-servile status (freedmen and -women on the cross was nothing to write home about) crucified: Gavius by Governor Verres in Sicily (Verres was put on trial for his many misdeeds and went into exile); his ward's poisoner by Governor Galba; Procurator Gessius Florus crucifying numerous Roman citizens of Jewish persuasion, equites among them, in Judaea.
I think it was pretty much limited to the open rebellion thing (Florus in Judaea likely used this approach), although I might be mistaken. Still, the Roman governor in his province wielded imperium that pretty much permitted him to override any existing laws and customs if he thought it necessary. The only check oh him was the possibility of prosecution in the Senate, to which the Principate added incurring Caesar's displeasure.But she can be beheaded and under certain exceptional circumstances citizens can be deprived of his citizenship.
Wragg calls his governor a proconsul, hence he's ruling a 'Roman people's province', he holds imperium directly from the Senate which is theoretically equal to the proconsular imperium of the Emperor in his provinces.
Oddly enough, imperial governors in the provinces possessed imperium not directly, but rather delegated by the Emperor; in theory that made the legal position of the governor of Syria, in command of several legions and entrusted with day-to-day relations with the mighty Parthia, lower than that of the puny proconsul of the neighbouring Cyprus.
The delegated imperium could not be delegated further, but there must've been certain legal devices empowering the subordinates of the imperial governor to act in his stead.
Dammit!! You framed Cassia, or Jasmine, er...
Tragedy! Marcus! That bastard!
Great job, Wragg! Nicely set up. I'm quite satisfactorily upset.
"Jasmine. What to do about her? She was such a pompous cow, always knowing best.
"Pompous cow" !!!!! What?
She pushed him off. The cause of death was a large, ugly knife sticking out of his back. The owner of the knife was standing there, with blood on her hands, and shock on her face.
“CASSIA!”
Thank God. Now can we have sex?
"Pompous cow" !!!!! What?
She pushed him off. The cause of death was a large, ugly knife sticking out of his back. The owner of the knife was standing there, with blood on her hands, and shock on her face.
“CASSIA!”
Thank God. Now can we have sex?
Hondoboot2
QUAESTOR PULCHRITUDINIS
Well, I am very glad that bastard Marcus got his, but I'm afraid for poor Jasmine
Well, I am very glad that bastard Marcus got his, but I'm afraid for poor Jasmine
Jasmine is in denial. She doesn't want to think about anything but Cassia
Marcius
Tribune
Execute those horny murderesses forthwith!Jasmine is in denial. She doesn't want to think about anything but Cassia
Execute those horny murderesses forthwith!
Hey, leave us alone for now. Can't you see we are busy
Let it never be said that a CF girl let a centurion and a cohort of Rome's finest get in the way of important stuff.View attachment 354674 Hey, leave us alone for now. Can't you see we are busy
Standards, people.
Let it never be said that a CF girl let a centurion and a cohort of Rome's finest get in the way of important stuff.
Standards, people.
Hold your horses, we are almost there ...
That nasty, mean ol' Wraggie thought he could keep her away from Cassia
He soon had another think coming!
I'm having fun picturing the expression on the centurion's face.That nasty, mean ol' Wraggie thought he could keep her away from Cassia
He soon had another think coming!
I'm having fun picturing the expression on the centurion's face.
I think he looks impatient ... you don't suppose he intends to use that stick on little old us, do you?
I think he looks resigned. He's seen it all before.
**Sigh**. There they go again. Like bloody rabbits, they are. Do they think the Proconsul has all day?
I think he looks resigned. He's seen it all before.
**Sigh**. There they go again. Like bloody rabbits, they are. Do they think the Proconsul has all day?
First he calls me a pompous cow....now its a bloody rabbit ... 
how come I get no respect here?
Excuse me, Mr Proconsul, she wants to go up in the world.....View attachment 354681 First he calls me a pompous cow....now its a bloody rabbit ...
View attachment 354682 how come I get no respect here?