"My lady!"





The cry from the guard at her chamber door awoke Princess Kirana from a dead sleep. Next, an anguished gurgle from the guard told her he was dead. When her groggy eyes came into focus in the torchlight, she saw that about her bed, her ten maids were also awakening, and surrounding them all were several dozen Roman soldiers, armed to the teeth. One of them stepped forward.





"Princess Kirana?"





The princess rose gracefully, keeping her legs together and her nightgown close about her.





"I am she," she replied. The soldiers' respect for her remarkable dignity in such dramatic circumstances gave her another moment in which to speak. "Is my father defeated?" she asked.





"Dead on the field, two days ago."





Kirana looked down at her hands.





"Then," she resumed, looking up, "I, Princess Kirana of the Amunians, surrender my person into your custody, as my captors, and beg you show the same mercy to my people as my father would have shown to yours had he been the victor."





"You may take that matter up with the emperor," the soldier responded, "My orders are to bind you and your maids and take you before my commanding officer, Rego Flavius."





"We shall of course comply," Kirana responded, "only turn your backs and let us dress ourselves first." There was more than one snort and chuckle from the soldiers at this, but their leader, though uncomfortable and discontent, consented in deference to her great dignity, and gave the order. The soldiers grumbled as they obeyed. Kirana and her ladies quickly replaced their nightgowns with travel robes, then, all following Kirana's example, held their hands together before them to be bound.





As she was led out of the palace and through the streets to the Roman camp outside the city wall, the princess noted very few signs of violence. The entire Amunian army had left weeks before with her father, the king, expecting certain victory over the invading Romans. Tonight, the Romans had met almost no resistance as they surprised a city emptied of soldiers.





"Sir," said her captor, when they had reached the Roman camp, "this is Kirana, Princess of the Amunians."





Rego Flavius sat with his back against a tree and several servants attending him. He looked weary, and a nasty wound in his lower abdomen was still bleeding, presumably from the battle two days before.





"Good," he said, hardly looking up. Then his eyes rose to see Kirana standing there, bound, with her olive skin and dark, wavy hair. "You look like your father," he said, "now you can take his place." Kirana didn't understand the words at first. "Do you know, I spent two years in this stinking country, chasing your father for the emperor? And now, as I taste victory, I am mortally wounded, and your father died in battle. I shall not even live to see Rome again, and if I did, I would not have the satisfaction of delivering to the emperor the prize he ordered me to take. I'll send you in his place though. These are the orders of the emperor." Rego closed his eyes in exhaustion.





"General," Kirana addressed him, "I can heal your wound."





"What?" Rego looked up, almost disgusted.





"I can heal you. I know a balm that can stop the bleeding. If you will allow me to collect herbs from the woodland, I can save your life."





After a pause, Rego responded. "Very well. Two of my men will accompany you."





Later, just as the first pale shades of the dawn teased the horizon, Kirana knelt before Rego, dipping a sponge in a bowl of boiled herbs. Rego scrutinized her as she removed the poorly applied bandage from his belly, then gently dabbed the gash with her sponge. Who was this woman, and why did she do this for him? She had a beautiful face, dark, like many of these eastern people. Her big, tired, brown eyes were calm, and she worked as though she had expected to be dressing his wound since she went to bed in royal splendor, not so many hours before. He reached out and touched her soft face. She smiled - with kindness, but also a touch of impatience. When she had finished, she looked into Rego's face as he held hers in his hand.





"Princess," he said, "join me in my tent." He said it tenderly, not as an order. Kirana rose, eyes down, and offered Rego her hand to help him stand. Rego found himself almost in awe of the grace and dignity Kirana displayed. He stumbled into his tent, followed by his captive.





"Shut the flap," he said, and she obeyed. He faced her for several more moments caressing her face, and she kept her eyes down - demure, but not cowed. Slowly, he reached for her cloak and let it fall from her shoulders. She still wore an ornate inner cloak, and beneath that a shift.





"Rego," she said, "I am your captive, and must submit to your orders, but please know that I will not willingly submit my body to the lusts of a Roman." Rego was taken aback. Normally, he would rape whatever captive he pleased, and their protests meant nothing to him, but now with this princess, he found himself compelled to respect her wishes. Kirana continued: "My father swore that I would remain a virgin until Rome lay in ruins, and as far as it is in my power, I shall endeavor to respect his oath. I will thank you for your aid in this matter."





Before Rego realized what he had done, he bowed his head in acknowledgement. It was not a big bow, but it was a bow, and for a moment after, he was stunned by his own response.





"Very well," he said, "You shall not be violated before we reach Rome. But in Rome you will be crucified, and that is beyond my control."





"Crucified?" Kirana asked calmly, "I have heard the word. It is a punishment?"





"Yes, it..." Rego began, uncomfortably, "It is a method of execution, My Lady."





"I am to be put to death, then?" She asked it with great poise and acceptance, though Rego thought he detected a lump in her throat, and a quickened heart in her breast.





"Yes," he finally answered.





"And raped?" she asked, returning to the original matter with an almost skeptical curiosity.





"It is not legal for a virgin to be executed, so yes, your virginity will be taken before you are crucified."





After a long pause, Kirana continued her inquiry. "Tell me, what is crucifixion? How will I die?"





Rego, having no desire to continue the discussion, but unable to dismiss the royal woman before him, replied, "Well, usually the condemned is brought to a public place and beaten, and then he is - or, in your case, she - is marched to the execution site and nailed to a cross."





"Nailed?" Kirana retained her dignity, but her breathing was becoming rapid. "What part of me will be nailed? And what is this cross?"





"Well, at the place of execution, there is a tall stake in the ground - taller than a man. The condemned carries a shorter wooden beams with him, and when he - or she, I'm sorry - arrives, his or her wrists are nailed to the beam. Then the beam is raised and fastened to the top of the stake that was already there, and his feet are nailed to the stake."





Kirana's eyes had grown slightly larger, as for some time she had nothing to say.





"Please, my Lady," said Rego, "Don't trouble yourself with this now. It is-"





"Tell me everything," Kirana interrupted. Rego paused, pitying the woman before him and feeling suddenly like a monster.





"There is nothing more to tell, My Lady..."





"How will I be beaten?"





"Well," Rego swallowed and forced himself to speak, "you will be tied to a whipping post in one of the central plazas or Rome... You will be stripped above the waist and... beaten."





"Stripped?"





Rego nodded.





"This is in a public place?"





"Yes, My Lady."





"In Amunia the women are never stripped in public. It is against all decency." Rego had nothing to say. "I may then dress myself again before they nail me to the beam?"





Rego hesitated, then made himself say it: "No, My Lady. You will remain bare above the waist until you arrive at the place of execution."





"And then?"





"Then... The remaining clothes will be taken."





"You mean to tell me that I will be naked?"





"Yes My Lady."





"Surely you will give me something to cover my womanhood?"





"No My Lady. The goal of crucifixion is humiliation..." He said it as if it might calm her.





After a long pause, she said, with a strong and dignified voice, "Romans are pigs." And she turned to leave the tent.