(PART ONE BORROWED WITH THE PERMISSION OF MASALA CAESAR.) The years had been good to him the tribune reflected to himself as he dismissed the guard. He earned much glory fighting for Rome in the East. That’s where he learned his keen eye for horses and earned his fame riding in the Circus. Most knew of his name for his success as a charioteer if not from his exploits as a legate in the provinces. Decorated by the emperor himself for valor on the field. Any position he wanted he could have. It was all his for the taking.
“When I was a boy, I dreamed of commanding the garrison of Rome. Now the wheel has turned. I am in command.”
With a sense of pride and satisfaction, Masala grabbed his gear and flung the baggage over the back of his trusty stallion Toes. The tribune preferred to travel light. The surprise of the commander arriving a day early shocked the men, but the signal was clear… there would be strict discipline within the ranks. “Drusus, I leave you in charge. If any of the watchmen sleep at their posts tonight, have them flogged to death!”
Drusus spoke as he shot his new commander a look of disbelief, “Yes, Tribune!” He made sure to give the man a firm salute.
“Oh Drusus, please close your mouth and don’t look so alarmed”, was Masala’s reply as he flashed his companion the warmest of smiles. “I know we are not in peril here, but the men need to learn respect and from the looks of it, get toughened up. They are too plump to be in the Roman army. Aside from the centurions, these troops are green, waiting for their chance to be bloodied. But that honor they will have to earn. Besides, pass the word around and the fear will keep them at attention.” And with that, Masala let out a hearty laugh as he gave Drusus a firm pat on the back.
“The remainder of my gear should be arriving shortly. Have my effects unpacked and arranged in my office. I will return before roll call in the morning. Work begins tomorrow, but as for tonight…” Leaving with a grin on his face and his words unfinished for Drusus’ imagination to complete, the mighty Masala mounted Toes. With a kick to the beast’s flanks, he was off to make is rounds. “Where has all the time gone? I can’t wait to see her again. I was such a scrawny boy then. Ahhh Messalina….”, this time leaving his words unfinished for his own imagination to complete.
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Messalina was at sixes and sevens trying to get the house in order for that night’s supper party. Pomponia was all thumbs when she went at Messalina’s head with instructions to make her hair more bewitching than Medusa’s. Other slaves were running through the house trying to arrange flowers and lamps and festooning the entire entrance with laurel and roses. There came a crash in the atrium so loud that Messalina thought the ceiling had collapsed. She ran to the entrance with Pomponia on her heels to find Macro sweeping up an overturned urn and scolding a scullery maid.
“Oh by the gods we will never be ready!” Messalina shouted above the din.
The sound of booming laughter cut the atmosphere causing all to turn to the door. There stood Masala in full dress armor.
Messalina screamed in delight. “Masala! By all that is holy what are you doing here?”
“Hello my Lady,” He said with a boyish twinkle in his eye. She ran to give her old friend a hug. Then holding him at arms length she looked him over.
“My but you have grown up and the army seems to agree with you.” She laughed and turned to Pomponia and Macro. “Look what happened to that boy who used to follow me all over the markets of Rome. We sent him away a skinny little boy and the army returns us a man.”
Masala nodded to the slaves then turned to Messalina. “I am arrived in Pompeii only yesterday and I…”
“Now I will not take no for an answer. You must stay her with me, I insist.”
Masala laughed. “Well only until I get settled.”
Messalina kissed him on the cheek and then her eyes popped open to their widest at the thought of her evening plans. “Oh my goodness…” She turned to look at Pomponia who was smiling slyly at the kabob that had endangered Messalina’s plans for the conquest of over dinner. “Marcus…” She looked at Masala and smiled.
“Am I interrupting something.”
“No, no! I am having a small dinner tonight..”
“Oh then maybe I should..”
“Nothing of the sort! You will be my honored guest. Besides, Marcus is a very important man in Rome. It will do you good to meet him.”
“Well, if you are sure.”
Messalina laughed. “I am never sure but I am determined. Now,” She turned to Macro. “Just follow Macro and he will see that you are settled.”
Masala gave her the imperial salute and then followed Macro to his quarters. Messalina watched his retreat.
“My but he has grown up to be so handsome.” She said. Then the urgency of the preparations ahead crashed in from all sides. “Oh! By the Gods! To the kitchens!” she shouted and started off running in that direction with Pomponia trailing close behind.