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“Then call on the Decemvirs, at once!” cried Verginia’s mother. “But in the meantime, give her back to me!”

Marcus stroked his chin and pursed his lips. “I think not. If her purported father were present, I might be persuaded to give her up to him—but not to a woman, who can have no legal standing.”

“I’m her mother!”

“So you say, but where is the man to vouch for that assertion? Since Verginius is not present, I will relinquish possession of this female only to a proper authority.”

A number of men in the crowd, even those who appeared to sympathize with Verginia’s mother, nodded and grunted their approval, swayed by Marcus’s legal reasoning.

“I will give her up only to a Decemvir. Ah, look there! Here’s just the man to take responsibility. This is the Decemvir in charge of deciding such cases.”

Appius Claudius had appeared, seemingly by chance. He wore the purple toga with a gold border which the Decemvirs affected as their official dress, and was accompanied by a bodyguard of lictors. He carried himself with great dignity. His graying hair and well-trimmed beard gave him a distinguished look. With an expression of innocent curiosity, he strode through the crowd.

Verginia, who had stood motionless for a long time, paralyzed by shame, hugged herself and began to tremble violently. The girl’s mother fell at Appius Claudius’s feet. “Decemvir, help us!” she cried.

“Of course I’ll help you, good woman,” he said quietly, reaching down to touch her brow. He addressed Marcus. “Citizen, what’s happening here?” His voice was low and steady; there was the slightest quaver, almost imperceptible, to match the fire of excitement that blazed behind his eyes.

“Let me explain, Decemvir,” said Marcus. “I’ve just retrieved this wayward slave girl, who escaped from my household years ago.”

Verginia suddenly clutched the rope around her neck and tried to bolt away; but Marcus, reacting at once, tightened his grip on the rope, and when she reached the limit of the tether Verginia was wrenched to the ground. Her mother gave a scream of horror.

Appius Claudius raised an eyebrow. “It seems that I’ve arrived just in time. Clearly, this situation demands the wisdom and authority that only a Decemvir can provide.”

At that moment, Icilia returned, accompanied by her brother, both of them breathing hard from running at full speed.

“Let her go!” shouted Lucius.

“And who are you, young man?” said Appius Claudius.

“Lucius Icilius. That girl is to be my wife.”

Marcus grunted and gave him a scathing look. “The female is my slave. A slave cannot be any man’s wife. Now, if I should decided to breed the bitch—”

Lucius ran toward him, bellowing with rage and swinging his fists. The lictors held him back.

“Stop this outrage at once!” shouted Appius Claudius. “You’re disturbing the peace.”

“This man is trying to abduct a freeborn girl!” shouted Lucius. “That’s the outrage! If only we still had tribunes to protect us—”

“Ah, now I know who you are,” said Appius Claudius. “The scion of the Icilii, a family famous for firebrands and rabble-rousers. Well, young man, bemoan the absence of the tribunes all you like; the Decemvirs are the only officers of state, and it is by a Decemvir that this matter must be decided. Since I happen to be the Decemvir in charge of such property disputes—”

“This is not a property dispute! It’s an abduction!”

“Perhaps, young man; but that is for me to decide.”

“Decemvir, you know this girl. This is Verginia, the daughter of Lucius Verginius. Did you yourself not ask for…” Lucius stopped himself. That fact that Appius Claudius had asked to wed Verginia—a fact revealed by Verginius after drinking too much wine—was not a matter Lucius would discuss in public.

“Young man, if you persist in this agitation, inciting the crowd to violence, I shall have no choice but to order my lictors to stop you. I shall empower them to use all necessary force. Once I give that order, you may be killed on the spot.”

Icilia gripped his arm. “Brother, do as he says. Calm yourself.”

Lucius shook free of her grip. His rage turned to tears. “Decemvir, don’t you see what this man is up to? Don’t you realize what he intends to do to Verginia? The girl is a virgin. She’s to be my bride. For the sake of decency, she cannot spend a night under any man’s roof except her father’s!”

“I see your worry,” said Appius Claudius, who used the opportunity to gaze openly at Verginia. She remained where she had fallen, on her hands and knees with the rope around her neck, blushing and trembling, utterly terrified. The Decemvir’s lips parted. His eyes narrowed. Every man in the crowd was staring at Verginia; no one noticed the look of lust on Appius Claudius’s face. Even Lucius, seeing Verginia in such a shameful position, turned his face away.

Appius Claudius squared his shoulders and lifted his chin. “Despite his hotheadedness, the young Icilius is correct: Until she is determined to be his property, the female cannot be left in the possession of Marcus Claudius. Pending the return of Verginius, when an informed judgment can be made regarding the female’s status, I myself shall take her into custody. In the meeting hall of the Decemvirs, I have a private chamber. The girl will be perfectly safe there. Citizen, hand me the rope.”

Marcus, bowing and cocking his head, handed the tether to Appius Claudius.

The Decemvir bent down to touch Verginia’s cheek, which was wet with tears. “On your feet, girl. Come with me.” He took her arm to help her up. Few saw just how hard he gripped her, digging his fingers into her flesh until she whimpered in pain. Quaking with fear, Verginia stumbled forward. Appius Claudius put his arm around her shoulder and whispered in her ear. An onlooker might assume he was speaking words of reassurance and comfort. In fact, no longer able to restrain himself, he was saying the things he had long dreamed of saying to her, telling her exactly what he intended to do to her as soon as they were alone in his room. Verginia stiffened and opened her mouth in shock, but no sound came out.

As Appius Claudius led her into the building, Verginia gripped the doorway and managed a faint cry for help. Lucius gave a cry of anguish and ran after them.

The lictors converged on him. They knocked him to the ground and struck him with their cudgels. Angered at seeing one of their own receive a public beating, a group of young plebs in the crowd rushed at the lictors and helped Lucius to his feet. Screams rent the air and blood was spilled on the paving stones.

More lictors emerged from the building. The crowd quickly dispersed.

Shaken and bleeding, Lucius limped home, assisted by his mother and sister. Verginia’s mother followed them, weeping uncontrollably.

 

The actions taken by Appius Claudius that day, and in the days that followed, would be speculated upon long afterward.

When the full story came to light, it was widely thought that the Decemvir must have fallen prey to a kind of madness. Surely no reasonable man would have thought that the ruse put forth by Marcus Claudius would withstand scrutiny, or that the people of Roma simply would not care about Verginia’s fate. And yet, at all times, Appius Claudius exercised a kind of reasoning, for each step of his scheme had to have been planned in advance and carefully executed; even the order calling Verginius to military service, it turned out, had originated with the Decemvir. Appius Claudius had not merely taken advantage of a situation that arose, or submitted to a sudden temptation that overwhelmed his better judgment; he deliberately orchestrated the situation and exploited it with unswerving ruthlessness.

Within an hour of Verginia’s abduction, Lucius sent a messenger to the military camp outside the city where Verginius had been posted. Verginius rode through the night and returned to Roma the next morning.

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