RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: Paramount owns Janeway and Chakotay, Voyager and its crew.
NOTE: Written for the 2005 VAMB Secret Valentine.
SUMMARY: Thrown into Earth's past, Kathryn and Chakotay have an unforgettable experience.
For several heady minutes, the shuttle teetered precariously on the undergrowth; unable to support its weight, it slid through the scrub, landing with a thud on the uneven surface of the gully.
Momentarily stunned by the force of the landing, Chakotay lay back against his chair, his head turned to the occupant in the other seat. Kathryn groaned as she leaned forward to look at the conn panel. She was shaken but appeared uninjured. He gave a small sigh of relief.
Another groan followed, one that held more a tone of despair than any discomfort.
"Hey...are you okay?" he asked as she smoothed back her hair.
"Tell me we weren't just flung through that rift, Commander," she said, ignoring his question.
"We fell through the rift," he replied, moving from his seat to open the hatch and peer into the blackness. It was too dark to make out where they were, except that he knew they had headed for a deep furrow with heavy undergrowth.
"Let's hope that no one saw our unexpected arrival."
"I saw some lights in the distance," he replied, "but that's all. Wherever we are, most people are probaly still sleeping."
He looked up and saw a few stars in the inky sky. With the naked eye they couldn't see the rift that had opened in the nebula through which they had been flung, enduring a very bumpy exit only to find themselves over...
A sudden realisation struck him as he turned back to the conn and touched Kathryn's shoulder. She swung round to face him in the low illumination of the cabin. She had been more shaken than she let on. He bit back a curse. Why hadn't he made sure she was fine?
"Where are we, I wonder?" she asked, frowning.
"When are we, I wonder?" he retorted as he sat down and entered a few commands. Kathryn studied the results with growing dismay, judging by the way she groaned again.
"Oh no..." Her voice was soft, filled with incredulity.
"Earth, northern continent. To be precise, Captain, we are in Italy."
"And we're here in the wrong time," she said flatly.
"That temporal rift opened for only ten seconds after the Valerians fired into the nebula," he murmured reflectively. "Ten seconds. That was all it took to - "
"Bring us to Earth..."
"The wrong Earth."
"Italy, and...in the third century AD."
"I'm running a level four diagnostic. Make certain we can lift off again without any problems," he said as his fingers flew deftly over the panels.
"Hopefully the Cochrane is still fully operational. All we need is for Voyager to wait for us," she responded, as she began computing time differentials based on the few short seconds the rift was active. They worked in silence until he was assured that the shuttle was fully operational. He looked up just as Kathryn completed her results.
"So?" he asked.
"We're in a ten second temporal shift. Voyager will be making the same computations. If our calculations are correct, Voyager will respond in thirty six hours. We just need to be there when the rift opens." Kathryn gave another heavy sigh. "Just the kind of luck we needed. We're home and we're not."
"Whether we like it or not, we're stuck on Earth until Voyager comes for us."
"Good thing you aimed for this gully, Commander. It's overgrown with scrub."
"Captain..."
"What?"
"The year is 269 AD, Rome under the rule of Emperor Claudius II."
"The tyrant ruler. Greatly predisposed to war, I take it."
"Who knows? Maybe he was defending his empire. We should camouflage the shuttle completely," he suggested. "And I don't think we should wait until morning."
"It's 0400 anyway. The sun will rise soon."
*
Kathryn left Chakotay at the conn while she moved to the cabin section, sitting down on one of the short bunks. She had no doubt that Voyager would have traced their ion trails and would rescue them, but the wait was going to be excruciating. She felt a flutter in her bosom as she watched Chakotay's back, so straight and aloof. He had been short with her, the air thick with tension. His strict adherence to protocol pained her, reminding her sharply of their last argument in which, she now had to acknowledge, no one had emerged a winner. The result of that all too cool and collected quarrel was to revert to the very early days on Voyager when he had been painfully correct and deferential. It was unbearable. He looked at her when he had to, spoke only when it was necessary in response to her commands. He couldn't get out of her sight quickly enough.
She had guarded her heart too long. Now, the scars that had grown over the old wounds of guilt and death and grieving and the cold fear of being exposed and vulnerable to the heart's betraying temptations again had become hard, tough as leather.
"It's an impenetrable fortress with the drawbridge permanently raised, Kathryn. I don't think anyone can pierce your heart again."
"Then don't try again. My task – "
"Yes, I know what your task is. There's no place for love, or…me…" he had said, his voice trailing, filled with desolation.
"Maybe...when we get home?" Her voice had sounded hopeful, yet the tone of it left him nothing but scraps of concessions. He didn't want that. "Don't...ask me now..." she said, knowing her words sounded lame.
"I won't ask again."
"Look, just let me get my crew home, okay?"
He had put down his glass with deliberation, quietly pushed back his chair and stood up. His shoulders were slumped, dejected, but his eyes were fevered with hurt.
"Whatever you wish, Captain."
Sometime soon the tension was going to break, tension that had been eating away at her insides the last few months. It was difficult to relax, so hard to let him into her heart, impossible to let go... That night she had been unthinking. Telling him that she could, if she wanted to, pursue such pleasures that made no emotional demands on her in the holodeck... She had not meant for it to sound so harsh. She had never been with anyone on the ship. Chakotay had put his own construction on her words and she had allowed him to believe she would go to any lengths not to let him into her heart.
She wanted to protect her heart and all she did was to alienate him. He couldn't understand that. It wasn't his fault.
"Captain."
She sighed as she gazed directly into his eyes. He had seated himself on the opposite bunk. After that last dinner in her quarters, he'd never called her by name again.
"What happened to Kathryn, Chakotay?"
"She's gone. There's not much left of her," he replied with heartless ease. "Look, we have to get out of here, scout around. You said yourself we might find ourselves in the middle of a battle..."
Almost, she wanted to blurt that they had been in the middle of their own little battle. But Chakotay had closed himself off. What did she expect? She had wanted it that way, so why did it feel as if his words tore her heart to pieces? Sighing, she decided to ignore his callous retort.
"No uniforms then, I guess," she stated, in an attempt at humour.
"Definitely not, Captain. I suggest we don the dress of the locals and try to blend in. We have hours to kill."
She nodded in agreement. She was an explorer. That would never change. She was as curious as he was to take a look around. No matter how boorish he was, she was curious. They had been thrown into a situation not engineered by them but by a hostile Valerian vessel which wanted to blast them into oblivion. Only Voyager had put up a bigger fight than the Valerians bargained for. Now they were in a place where they could see life in action thousands of years before their own time. It quickened her heartbeat and brought a warmth to her cheeks. Together they searched the database for styles of period costumes and an hour later they stood in the cabin, dressed in Roman attire.
*
Kathryn stared down at her chiton, tied to her waist with a drawstring, sandals on her feet. She had replicated an extra hairpiece with curls, swept up her own hair and pinned the piece to it, a string of white pearls adorning the hair.
"No need to dye your hair red, I guess," Chakotay said as he studied her appearance.
"I look like Calpurnia," she complained softly.
He gave a mirthless laugh. "I have to worry about this," he said, pointing to his tattoo.
She resisted the urge to caress his forehead and drew the hand back. Reining in her emotions, she took a deep breath and then smiled at him. "If anyone asks, we're travellers from far lands," she assured him, her concerns gone as she squeezed his arm in an unconscious gesture of familiarity. Her heart surged with gladness when he didn't pull his arm away or stiffen like he had been doing since their argument.
"Fine."
Chakotay shrugged, but excitement lurked in his dark eyes. His hair, normally in straight bristles was brushed flat against his head, leaving a minuscule fringe that reminded her of Roman senators. All he needed was a toga and laurel wreath.
Outside it had grown light. They stood a few metres away from the shuttle, deciding how much they still had to do to cover it sufficiently. The thick scrub and tree branches hid most of the Cochrane but they couldn't be too careful. Fortunately, it did appear that they were quite isolated. There was no one about. They had been literally shunted into another time and place. In fact, more than two thousand years and if anyone saw a vessel completely alien to their comprehension... She didn't want to entertain that thought further. They worked in silence and when Chakotay stood on a rise about fifty metres away, he waved to her. She gave sigh of relief as she joined him and looked back.
"No one will notice. It's quite hidden," she told him as they started walking away from the shuttle towards a road.
"You realise we've jumped more than two thousand years, Captain?"
She had little time to bristle at the way he called her 'captain' or felt the need to reply. The enormity of their situation was brought home to her as they saw billowing dust in the distance, which was rolling towards them. Soon they heard the sound of horses' hooves. Kathryn looked down to realise they were already on the dirt road, its camber overgrown with wild grass, but the ruts a clear sign that it was a well-travelled road and as straight as an arrow.
"What the - ?" Chakotay exclaimed softly as he pulled her quickly out of the road and they lay halfway up the embankment as the vehicle thundered towards them. It was a chariot, drawn by four magnificent black horses. But what caught her attention was the charioteer, his voice rising above the thundering hooves as he shouted his commands. His cloak of deep red billowed behind him, revealing his uniform, the ornate silver or tin breastplate gleaming in the morning sun, the plumes of his helmet creating little waves as majestic as the manes of the horses.
The chariot charged past so quickly that Kathryn shook her head, wondering what she had just seen, or whether she had imagined it. Horses and driver moved further and further away from them until they vanished into the distance. She sneezed a few times as the dust settled slowly around them. She heard Chakotay sneeze too. Then it was quiet for some seconds, the echoes of the noise still ringing in their ears.
Only when Chakotay gave a low chuckle did she realise he was staring at her.
"What?" she asked, trying not to show her mortification at being completely spellbound by the event.
"I bet you didn't see the lady standing next to him on the chariot."
"There was a woman?"
"In a beautiful white stola and maroon palla. Her arm was wrapped round the centurion's waist. Wonder where they were off to in such a hurry? They looked..." Chakotay let his voice trail.
"In love?"
"That was the impression I got," he said, smiling as he helped her up and guided her up the ditch until they were standing where moments ago a chariot bearing a Roman centurion resplendent in uniform, cracking his whip, his lady clinging to him had just rushed past him.
"By the way," she said, "how do you know it was a centurion?"
"Maybe not a centurion. A tribune, more likely. With four horses drawing his chariot, the epaulettes, the silver breastplate, the red transverse plumes on his helmet? The man looked important enough to lead more than one hundred Roman soldiers. Besides - "
"They always get the girl?"
Chakotay gave a sigh, smiling tightly. "Perhaps not. I was going to say I noticed a crested ring on his finger and the way he carried his sword on his left side. I read somewhere that it's to distinguish between the leaders and cavalry and infantrymen. Looked like he must be from a long line of legionaries or tribunes... Then again, I could be wrong. I'm mainly indulging in conjecture."
"Then I can tell you I did notice the lady. Her gaze was not on the road ahead, but directed at the centurion's face."
"Trust Captain Janeway not to miss a small detail like that."
After which she decided not to give him fodder to bait her again.
They walked for about half an hour in complete silence. Their commbadges were concealed; the sling bag of hessian contained some food rations, a tricorder, site to site transporter and hypospray. They followed what looked like a footpath across a wide field of tall grass. In the distance they could see smoke spiralling upwards. They were nearing the perimeter of the town.
The field was strewn with patches of wildflowers. Here and there bright yellow and white daisies; it was probably very early spring, she decided. Then swatches of colour assailed her, colours mostly in various shades of bright brilliant purple. The sun was out and the last of the dew was slowly vanishing. Kathryn bent down to pick a flower.
"When when did you last see real violets, Chakotay?"
"On Dorvan V."
"Seven years ago, then."
"Seventeen years ago, Captain. I never went there again."
At least he was talking, she decided as they walked along a trodden path. Then suddenly she stopped in her tracks, wondering how the girl had appeared so stealthily not a hundred metres ahead of them.
"Chakotay...look..." she said softly as Chakotay bumped against her. Then she pointed to where the girl was standing, seemingly oblivious of her surroundings or noticing them.
"We could enquire about the way to the nearest inn," Chakotay suggested. "We need to sleep somewhere tonight, if not in the shuttle."
"You're right. Why would you sleep in the shuttle when you can see history alive, potter around historical documents which today wouldn't be historical at all?"
Or sleep on opposite bunks wondering why things are the way they are?
"Captain, I was merely pointing out the safest way to confront someone way out of our time and place with a query, without sounding out of time and place."
"I know," she sighed, tugging at her chiton, the course fabric rough against her skin. "I think the girl has spotted us..."
"Well, this is it. Our first contact with Earth in more than two thousand years," he said, his voice awed as she had not heard it in a long time.
"Let's hope our universal translators don't fail us," she replied as they walked towards the girl, careful not to frighten her off. In the shuttle, they had discussed the issue of language; she hoped that they would be able to address whomever they met in passable Latin.
When they reached the girl, Kathryn was surprised to find that she looked even younger than she appeared from a distance. She appeared about fourteen years old. A very youthful and open face, with clean, clear skin, very dark braided hair that plunged to the small of her back. They stopped and as the girl stood up straight after picking another flower, she looked at them, and then took a step back.
"Please..." Kathryn said softly, "we mean you no harm."
A fleeting fear had flitted in the girl's eyes but Kathryn's reassuring voice quickly calmed her. It seemed the girl understood her, translating into Latin the words she spoke. She was also patently curious and Kathryn wondered whether it was a good idea to have left the safety of the shuttle and venture where it was possible they could corrupt the timeline or worse, alter history.
The girl's gaze rested on Chakotay, taking in, Kathryn knew, the tattoo on his left brow. They must have come in contact with the many and varied tribes and peoples of the Empire, especially from North Africa. Chakotay could be anything from a Berber to a Numidian or Egyptian. A marking on his face could denote ancestry, or religion or some other token of belonging. The girl didn't look too concerned by Chakotay's appearance or the fact that the air crackled slightly when their English was translated.
"My companion is right," he said softly. "We mean you no harm. I am Silas of Macedonia - "
"You are Greek?" she asked. "Like Lucanus of Antioch?"
"Yes...yes, I am."
Kathryn smiled inwardly. The girl had caught Chakotay a little off guard. Macedonia indeed. He looked more like Ilderim, the Arab trader. The girl shook her head as she acknowledged Chakotay's reply, the braid sashaying gently behind her back. Kathryn had the fleeting notion that she approved of Chakotay. Another inward grin. Who wouldn't approve of Chakotay? Then again, just a few nights ago she had rejected him. Funny how walking in the Roman sun mellowed her resolve. Already she was experiencing doubt and guilt about the way she had treated him.
I know I shouldn't be afraid…
Suddenly aware that the girl was staring at her, Kathryn pulled herself back to the present.
"My name is Aurelia," Kathryn added, smiling at the way the girl clutched the posy of violets against her youthful bosom.
When she smiled, Kathryn thought it was a most heavenly smile that lit the child's face.
"I am Julia, daughter of General Venantius. What brings you to Terni?"
"Terni?" Chakotay asked before sucking in his breath as he realised that Julia referred to the town they saw in the distance.
"Yes. There is a Roman barracks there. My father is also the overseer of the prison in Terni. Have you travelled very far? Perhaps from Macedonia? Have you too come for the festival of Lupercalia to honour Juno?"
Julia's piercing green eyes rested calmly on Kathryn. The concealed commbadge whirred softly against her breast as it translated Julia's Latin. Kathryn glanced up at Chakotay, then on an impulse, took his hand in hers, an action that brought a flash of pleasured surprise into his eyes. Her heart fluttered madly when he squeezed her hand. For the first time she felt she was doing the right thing.
"We seek rooms at the inn to rest before we travel further to the north..."
"Then you will miss the Festival. I do not like it," Julia said as she beckoned them to follow her in the direction of the town.
"Why do you not like it, Julia?"
"The youths of the town draw girls' names and on the day of the Festival, they - "
Julia was quiet as she continued ahead of them. Kathryn glanced at Chakotay who gripped her arm.
"The Festival does not have good memories for you, Julia?" he asked.
"It does not. The young men choose to engage in licentious acts with the girls. I do not like it at all."
With that, Julia remained quiet the rest of the way until they reached the outskirts of the town. Only then did she turn to face them. Her face blossomed into a smile again. Kathryn imagined that even through the smile there was sadness that lurked there.
"I will take you to my father's house," Julia said softly. "He will help you. He helped Lucius Tullius and the Lady Livia this morning."
"Lucius Tullius?" they chorused.
"Did you not see him? You travelled from the long road, did you not? The road that leads to Rome?"
"Do you mean the centurion on the chariot, Julia?" Kathryn asked when they neared a villa.
"He did seem in great haste," said Chakotay.
"He is a tribune. He has been called up again by General Plotius. He was joined in marriage to the Lady Livia. Before he goes to fight…" Julia paused, looked pointedly at the two of them again, especially the way they held hands. Kathryn had forgotten that her hand was clasped in Chakotay's. "You are betrothed…"
"I - no, we are not," she replied thickly.
Julia smiled this time.
"You are holding hands..."
Kathryn tried to extricate her hand from Chakotay's, but found it imprisoned there. A quick glance at him settled the warring emotions in her. His eyes were kind, the softness in them all but encompassing her in his love.
"We are betrothed," she told Julia, her eyes still on Chakotay.
"Then you must see Valentinus. My father will arrange for you to see him. But first you must rest - "
"Valentinus?"
"Oh, yes!" Julia exclaimed, her eyes fired. "Did I not tell you that he joined the great tribune Lucius Tullius Severinus and Lady Livia, daughter of the enlightened General Caligula in marriage?"
Kathryn thought the way the great Tribune Lucius Tullius Severinus and his Lady Livia rushed away from Terni in the direction of Rome, that neither of them had their parents' permission to marry.
"Because they fell in love," Julia explained as if she read Kathryn's thoughts. "Their parents arranged other marriage partners for them. They...are in love..." Julia whispered, her voice awed. "In love..."
"Then we must meet with this Valentinus," Chakotay said as they followed Julia into the cool foyer of the house.
"Oh, there is one thing I did not tell you…"
"Tell us what, Julia?" Kathryn asked.
"Valentinus," Julia replied, "is in prison. He has been condemned to die..."
*******************************************
In an airy room just off the atrium, Chakotay and Kathryn lounged on large pillows on the floor. A table was spread with bowls of fruit - pears, figs, grapes and pomegranates - and plates with salted meat and sweet meats for their early afternoon meal.
Chakotay studied the people around him. Julia was the sweet young daughter they had met in the field on the outskirts of the town. Tall, she possessed an elegance of movement he had never seen in his own time; she had very long dark hair and green eyes, an unusual colour, he thought. Her father was a burly man with reddish-brown hair and beard. He reminded Chakotay of a fierce lion ready to protect its pride. And Venantius did have the proud bearing of the senior ranks of the Roman Army, even though he was retired from service, a privilege he said, granted him by the great Claudius II himself. He wore a long tunic and toga and an ornate ring on his index finger. The lady Claudia, his wife, was a quiet woman who didn't speak much. Chakotay noticed how she frowned from time to time, rubbing her temples; he had surmised earlier that she must be enduring some pain, probably a severe headache.
She drank a green extract, which he thought had to be celery. Venantius and Julia, as well as a younger son who looked to be about eleven years old, seemed to be accustomed to the lady Claudia drinking celery extract to relieve her of her pain. He sighed and fumed in silence. He could relieve her of her headache in the blink of an eye.
Kathryn, or Aurelia as she had introduced herself to the company, looked in her element. He knew he was going to flood her with questions once they were back on Voyager and in a familiar area of an alien quadrant that had become their home away from home. She had spent time alone with the women while he had found Venantius to be a good conversationalist.
Kathryn surprised him. Her reaction to Julia's assertion that they were engaged sent warm shivers through him. Even if she didn't mean what she said, at least for a day or two he could revel in the feeling that Kathryn would, if she shed her reserve, have him to help her allay her fears, reveal the woman hidden under all the protocol, look upon him as the man who'd give anything to be by her side.
He loved her. He would love Kathryn Janeway to his dying day. There was in him an unequivocal conviction that he would never feel differently about her. If she never told him an iota of what her feelings were towards him, or, even if she told him in no uncertain terms that there was no hope for him as a life partner even if she did love him, or, worse, if she told him that she could never love him or learn to love him, that was how he would feel towards her. Kathryn, he sensed, was at a crossroads and had probably been languishing there for a long time. Now, just the public showing of holding hands which they instantly recognised, once Julia referred to it, as a Roman custom, was enough for him.
He'd wait. He'd be willing to be her friend, shower her with the undying devotion of deep friendship, of caring for and about her. He'd do all that.
If only...
They had argued before they found themselves in their present situation. She had been clear about her future path, even when they got home. There was to be no place in her life for him. In her heart? Even that she hadn't been prepared to acknowledge. Her promise that she'd give him a chance only when they got home, was filled with what he thought to be falseness, mild concessions to him. Could he have misread her responses that night? Was it something that he wanted to believe of her? She had been cool to the point of callousness telling him there was no hope for him. He thought that; something in him refused to accept she could be anything but heartless. So it cut him to the core. Not whether she felt anything or nothing, but the heartless way in which he believed she said it.
If she wanted to, she said, she could find her pleasures on the holodeck, or in the arms of a crewman who would make absolutely no demands on her. He had shaken his head in disbelief, had blanched at the crude, un-Kathryn, un-Captain-like manner in which, he believed, she demeaned herself and destroyed his hopes.
Knowing that he would always love her, no matter what the circumstances or change to their destiny, he could never expose himself again, that doing so would provide her ammunition to drive the blade of pain even deeper. He knew that, like the other night when he had come close to kissing her, when he had touched her cheek with infinite affection and love which she must have sensed, he would inadvertently expose himself, making himself vulnerable to her.
And so he reverted to the only thing that could rein in his emotions, conceal his endless torch song for her and protect him for as long as he wished - protocol.
It had paid unexpected dividends. Kathryn was not unaffected by his calling her 'captain' again and being painfully correct and deferential to her as the leader of Voyager. As long as he kept up those pretences up, it was a protective mechanism against Kathryn. She had given him a surprised, hurt look the first time he addressed her by her rank, and then he knew that it rankled.
Two, he decided, could play the same game.
If only he knew what Kathryn's game was.
Now, the way Kathryn stuck close to him, touching him, grasping his hand with much reassurance, gave him hope. She was beginning to shed her reserve and he hoped to the heavens that it would last further than the outskirts of Rome, Italy, in the year 269 AD.
Earlier in the day, they had been brought more or less up to date on the politics of the city state, its culture, the military, Rome's maritime strength, its slow decline...
"Emperor Claudius II is a warmonger, too hungry to wage campaigns to extend and defend the empire. What Empire? The one which is showing a gradual decline? He may have held back the Goths, but the Barbarians will come again and rout us all..."
"Venantius..." came the voice of Claudia, his wife, "you speak the words of treason..." But Claudia's eyes, heavy with the pain of her headache, remained indulgently on her husband. They were clearly a new breed of Roman citizen, one who embraced a new religion.
"I do not care, Claudia. The end of the Empire is nigh, and emperors like Claudius II hasten it to its demise. Our guests agree, do they not?"
Chakotay could tell them that the Empire fell in the year 476, when overrun by the Barbarians. He could tell them that Claudius, the ruler who defeated the Goths, would meet his end within a year.
"Who knows, Venantius? We cannot see into the future - "
"But surely it is possible to determine from our past events and our present strife that Rome follows a path of destruction."
"True," Chakotay added. "One can see a path, and the path, as you say, is filled with gloom."
Venantius shook his head, clicking sagely with his tongue.
"I am too old for this game, Silas. My days are spent guarding prisoners who should never have been in prison. Fortunately I am too old now for Claudius's wars. Soldiers cannot marry now, did you know that?"
He didn't know and he saw Kathryn also shaking her head.
"Someone married Lucius Tullius Severinus this morning, Venantius," she ventured.
"Ah, the imbecile Claudius - "
Claudia gave a soft gasp, followed by a shocked cry from Julia. The boy Diocles remained quiet. He doubted if Diocles was listening to them. The boy looked preoccupied. Earlier Chakotay had spotted him enacting Roman battles and when he'd asked about it, Diocles had answered 'it's Caesar's campaigns in Gaul.'
Venantius continued, "Well, Emperor Claudius decreed that men in the Roman army may not marry or even be betrothed..." Venantius let his words hang while he popped a large grape in his mouth, its sap dripping from his mouth as he chewed. "Can you believe that?"
"He had to have a reason," Kathryn said, a little reflectively.
"He defeated the Goths, I acknowledge. Who wants to be overrun by Barbarians? That was a brilliant campaign. For once I do not wish to spit on Claudius II Gothicus. But his many campaigns…" Venantius was quiet for a few seconds, collecting his thoughts, then addressed them again. "He contended that unmarried soldiers fought better in his campaigns than married soldiers who dreamed of home and wife and offspring. Married men in the army would think of their wives first before throwing themselves into a battle that would kill them."
"And so he outlawed marriages," Chakotay stated. "But this morning the great Lucius Tullius was joined with the Lady Livia…"
"Who knows the strength of the heart's desires?" asked Venantius, giving his wife a tender look. "Men and women will always find a way. Where love resides, not a man under the sun will keep two lovers apart. Yes…yes, in our jail there is a young man – " Venantius paused, gave Julia a penetrating look before he continued. "- A young man who defied the emperor's edict against marriage and continued to marry young people. He is a Christian priest…"
"Why is he in jail?" Kathryn asked, her hand trembling slightly as she held a ripe fig to her mouth. Chakotay thought she had already figured out why the young man found himself incarcerated. Defying a royal decree amounted to treason. But, she had to ask.
"Our Julia here sneaks him something to eat sometimes," said Venantius, his gaze changing to tenderness. "And flowers too… Oh, yes, in prison… The imbecile Claudius – I spit on him – threw Valentinus in prison. He wanted his army at full strength, fighting for the glory of Rome and to protect the Empire. How would this be achieved if his soldiers and centurions and tribunes performed without energy on the battlefield?
"Valentinus believes that he joins two people in the eyes of God, that marriage is holy…" said Julia who received a kind look from Claudia whose headache seemed to have abated.
"Yes…yes, if they desire to be married, then he shall continue to join them in holy matrimony, even though he is in jail. Now, young Julia, did you not help the great Tribune Lucius Tullius Severinus and the Lady Livia into Valentinus's cell so that he could perform the marriage ceremony?"
"Valentinus said that since the enlightened Emperor Claudius had already condemned him to die, he does not have anything to lose," answered Julia, sounding a trifle breathless. "He will die, Father!"
"Daughter, I wish there is something I could do to help Valentinus. But you know that I cannot. These hands," he said, flourishing his puffed hands about him, "are tied by the great and enlightened Claudius II Gothicus himself, may I spit on him." Chakotay saw the thinly veiled anger in Venantius's eyes and knew that he was going to do something against his will… "Is marrying young people a crime?" Venantius asked, his voice rising. "But I have to perform my duty. Duty! May I spit on Claudius…"
"Perhaps," said Kathryn, "Silas and I may be allowed to see this Valentinus?"
"We rest for the afternoon, Lady Aurelia. After that I may take you to the prison," Venantius offered, sounding less angry.
That had been this morning, soon after they had arrived and sat down to a form of breakfast. They had taken a walk around the town, Chakotay making certain that he kept his hessian sack on his person at all times. They had been amazed at the architecture, far more functional and elegant than what they'd always seen in pictures and holographic records. The real thing lay before them - dusty roads and avenues, long, long before the days of tarred roads. When a litter passed them, the curtain had fluttered delicately and they had seen the face of a woman peering at them. Kathryn had been excited, careful not to speak too loudly. She looked so Roman herself that he had a hard time distinguishing her from other women who were walking about on the arms of their partners. Often she had looked up at him, then took his hand in hers again like she had done early this morning. He wanted to pull her to him and hug her fiercely.
Things would be different once they were back on Voyager, he knew. Kathryn did nothing in half measures. If she meant to take his hand in public, giving a public showing of her intent, then she meant it.
They had returned to the villa and sat down to a light meal. When would they have a nap? he wondered drowsily.
"What do you think, Silas?" the voice of Venantius drifted to him. He looked around at the others, realising he hadn't heard a word of what Venantius had said.
Venantius laughed good-naturedly. "Do not be so alarmed, Silas. I am often accused of not listening to my wife and children!"
"I beg your apology, Venantius," he said, a little mortified. Kathryn smirked and Julia and her mother smiled graciously. "Certainly the lady Aurelia and I would accept your offer of hospitality. We mean to leave tomorrow - "
"You - you cannot!" exclaimed Julia with consternation. Her eyes looked fevered again and she cast unhappy glances at her parents.
"What is wrong, Julia?" Kathryn asked, her hand on the young girl's arm.
"Tomorrow, Valentinus will be executed! He will die. He cannot die!"
Did Julia think they could help Valentinus?
"It will be the eve of the Festival of Lupercalia. They mean to make a spectacle of Valentinus, Father!"
"It is not in your hands, my daughter. Please do not speak of this again," said Venantius curtly.
************************************************
PART THREE
VOYAGER, DELTA QUADRANT
"It will be another thirty five hours before the rift opens again," Seven of Nine informed Tuvok.
"Meanwhile, the Valerians have vanished. They've just shunted the Cochrane through a temporal rift and now they're light-years away," Harry said, standing next to Ayala at Operations.
"They've been thrown into the past - "
"Or future."
"They could be anywhere, anytime," Ayala added.
"In earth years, precisely two thousand one hundred and nine years," came Seven of Nine's acerbic reply.
"They have a ten second window to get the Cochrane through the rift when it opens," Tom said, turning to look at Tuvok.
"What do you wish to add, Mr Paris?"
"Our secret Valentines. The Captain and Commander will be too late to join in the Valentine's Day party."
"Mr Paris, it is never too late for Valentine."
"Tuvok! You amaze me. I didn't know Vulcans - "
"That will be all, Mr Paris. Please return to the command chair to my left."
There was silence on the bridge for several minutes while Voyager, with James Hamilton at the helm, remained dead in the water on the perimeter of the nebula where the rift had opened. Tom still couldn't believe that the shuttle had just vanished instantaneously, sucked through the rift. They had been on their way to negotiate with the Valerians who had insisted on seeing both captain and second in command.
They had not engaged the Valerians; the aggressors had known about the rift. Most likely they had lost some of their own vessels that way and never managed to rescue their people. The only conclusion he could come to was that had been too close to the rift themselves, knew of its ever-changing nature, and getting the Cochrane close enough would shut the aperture long enough for them to exit the nebula and hobble away into the distance.
During the first few minutes, the crew had been too busy wondering where the Cochrane had vanished, furiously trying to find out where the Captain and Commander were. Now, an hour had passed and they were no closer, except knowing that a time jump of more than two thousand years had been made. B'Elanna was working on finding some more accurate results from her tests which she was running in Engineering. Sighing, he wondered whether it was better being in the past than in the future.
They had made arrangements for a secret Valentine for their February 14 celebrations and Neelix, the Director of Operations, had managed to get everyone excited enough to participate. He had gushed, run around on his short legs, stomped them up and down here and there, but finally got the events management sorted out.
"Even young Miss Wildman must get a secret Valentine," Neelix had gushed. "And, young lady, it may not be whom you wish it to be. He drew someone else's name, you know."
"But Neelix, didn't you always say it's the thought that matters, no matter who presents the gift or how small it is?"
"Ah, uh…ah, uh, yes, I said so, didn't I?"
"And I don't really mind who is my secret Valentine, Neelix. I get another one from you-know-who anyway!"
"Naomi Wildman! What on earth will your mother say?"
Naomi gave Neelix her most angelic smile.
"She likes him. She ordered him to wait 'til I'm all grown up."
Even B'Elanna, not too keen on Earth's traditions, merrily joined in, as did just about every member of the crew. They were going to exchange flowers, gifts, cards, holovids, little stories, poems, songs, etc. He had been just as fired up. In the seventh year of their journey, Voyager was their home, and many of Earth's traditions were followed by the whole crew. It was a day when they could shed their reserve, break loose a bit and just have fun.
His secret Valentine was going to be very lucky. He had started working on it after the Christmas festivities, and boy, was he glad that he had drawn that crewman's name.
Now, Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay would be gone, returning only at the end of Valentine's Day. How could the family of Voyager enjoy themselves when its head was not present?
Where could they be?
Could they be in the future? In the past? On which planet and in which quadrant?
What stories would they have to tell when they were back on Voyager? Would the incident draw them closer? Everyone had witnessed how Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay were once more back to their old footing, the way they were in the first months of Voyager when they had been ultra-formal, hung up on protocol and strictly adhering to calling one another "captain" and "commander". Then, after New Earth, to everyone's joy, the two had been on a first name basis. No one else on the ship called the Captain by her given name. Chakotay had been gifted with that privilege. They had become greater friends than before and the hopes of the crew - those romantic idealists who believed that love could always triumph - were given a boost. Soon there would be wedding bells on Voyager, in a manner of speaking. The senior crew knew how Chakotay felt, knew that he was the most honourable warrior who would devote his life to loving the Captain. They all thought it would happen soon after New Earth. It didn't. Then they thought it would happen soon after their confrontations with Species 8472, when Seven of Nine came on board. After that, every major crisis Voyager had was a trigger to hoping that now, Captain Janeway would finally make Chakotay the happiest man in the galaxy.
Then suddenly, in the last few days, relations had become strained and Chakotay had not been too happy joining Captain Janeway in the shuttle en route to the Valerians' vessels. They were stiff, formal with one another and he could see Captain Janeway wasn't happy at the way things had turned out. It was 'Captain' and 'Commander' again between them. What had gone wrong? That was what everyone wondered.
Tom sighed. The whole crew hoped that Valentine - may his soul rest in peace - could enact some magic and let love bloom in the eyes of their command team again.
Tuvok's commbadge beeped suddenly, jolting him to the present.
"Torres to the bridge."
"Tuvok here. What is it, Lieutenant?"
"I hope it's good news," Tom muttered under his breath, feeling a warmth spread through him as he heard B'Elanna's voice.
"Commander, I've got some news. I've isolated the ion trail of the Cochrane in the seconds before the rift closed. I've also determined from residue left in the wake of the closure, that the Cochrane's destination has an oxygen-nitrogen atmosphere…"
"Earth?"
"It's definitely an M-class planet. I've matched the ratio with our own data on M-class planets including those in the Delta Quadrant we have scanned over seven years. The closest match suggests it may be Earth."
"Let's hope it's Earth," Tom muttered to himself.
"I heard that, Flyboy. The residue was free of the kind of impurities left by air pollution and space travel. It pretty well means that it could - "
"Have you determined whether it is a jump into the future, Lieutenant?" Tuvok interrupted.
"No. In that case they would have been back already, Commander. They would simply have fitted the Cochrane with a temporal device to bring it back. Torres out."
Tom stifled a laugh. B'Elanna's voice sounded almost irritated that Tuvok of all beings could fall into that trap.
"Would they be on Earth?" Magnus Rollins, who had been quiet all along, asked.
"An exact match of the atmospheric composition, before radio waves, space travel, space debris, pollution of the atmosphere... I'd say that's where they are, Magnus," Tom answered.
"I wonder where on Earth they are?" Harry asked.
"The Commander and Captain Janeway are the only ones who know," replied Ayala.
"I bet they'll have a few stories to tell," Tom said.
"Maybe they met Julius Caesar."
"Too late for him."
"Or Cicero, the chick pea."
"Too late for him, too. They were contemporaries."
"Do they say 'Sisserow' or 'Kickerow'?"
"Does it matter?"
"Perhaps they landed on the plains of America, meeting some ancient forebear of the Commander."
"No, in Japan, with the Commander an ancient samurai warrior and the Captain his paramour."
"I wouldn't mind ancient Egypt, like the city of Alexandria, where the library - "
"Too late. They would be too late for the library. Who knows, they could be anywhere!"
"Let us not conjecture - "
"But, Tuvok, conjecture is good!"
"Whatever you might…conjecture, the captain and commander will be back in another thirty five hours.
"Thank you for putting it so beautifully, Mr Tuvok."
"Shall we then focus our attention on the nebula? Voyager must be at the mouth of the rift when it opens and pull the Cochrane through with a tractor beam."
Tom gave a snort. The Cochrane would have to be in orbit by then, very close to the opening rift. To Earth's people, the glowing rift might appear like an aurora borealis, so it could be dismissed by them as just another strange cosmic phenomenon. That is, if the commande team found themselves above Earth's northern hemisphere.
Tuvok was right. They could conjecture all they wanted, but the missing couple would only be back in thirty five hours. That gave them time to kill, for some crew, time to reflect, to prepare their secret gifts, for Neelix and his small team of volunteers to deck the halls of Voyager's observation lounge. They had all been looking forward to it. He knew what Chakotay would have said. They should continue without the command team. But, he sighed, he felt they should wait. It wouldn't kill them to start the proceedings when the captain and commander were back on Voyager.
He figured that the Cochrane would have crash-landed, or that the Captain would have landed the shuttle safely, away from whoever might see it and call them witches, or something.
They'd be way out of time and place on Earth, but nowhere near home. Just like that time when they found themselves in Earth's atmosphere, but in 1996. They were home, and not home.
Whichever way they conjectured, the command team would have some stories to tell them. That's for sure.
*
In the hydroponics bay, Noah Lessing sat on a long bench looking at the piece of intricately designed golden jewellery, holding it to the light. He had had a hard time convincing Chell to design it for him. Chell, a former Maquis, was one of the last of the crew to accept him as a crewmember of Voyager. It had been a trying time for him and the others of the Equinox. Even now, he was not certain that Starfleet Command, once they were back on Earth, would forgive them their transgressions, committed only because they followed their leader's orders.
For a very long time, he had had a hard time fitting in, trying his best to blend into the bulkheads, skulk along the corridors of Voyager so that few could see him, remaining hidden from view and doing as he was told. Despite Captain Janeway's injunction that they be treated as new members of the Voyager crew, they were demoted in rank. None of them minded. They were beset by guilt, by anger, and mostly, by fear. At last, they were in a place where true Starfleet principles were followed.The preservation of life before all else was the captain's motto, and though their own Captain Ransom had just wanted his crew to survive, none of them liked what he'd asked them to do: kill life forms to sustain themselves.
They had been treated like lepers in the beginning, the crew merciless in the way they ignored the five of them. He felt sorry, not for himself, but for Marla, his greatest friend, because she suffered.
Gradually though, the crew came round and began slowly accepting them, drawing them into their little conclaves or conversations, meeting on social levels, working together as a team. The ones he had most to fear were Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay. Captain Janeway had come very close to obliterating him, she had been so angry. But then, after the Commander had spoken up, she had relented and one evening, right here in the hydroponics bay, by the tomato stand, she had forgiven him, and asked his forgiveness too because she had almost killed him.
She had used the words "ira furor brevis est" and when he had given her a perplexed look, said it meant "anger is brief madness".
He could very believe that and understand it. How many times had he seen his dear and beloved Mama lash out at him and his brother and the next moment, she would hug them? She used to say "one minute I'm angry as hell, the next...where has it gone?"
Everything was forgiven. His dear Mama used to say that one should never hold grudges long because it was wasted energy.
Now, he had enlisted the help of Chell, the Bolian, to design and create the fabulous pieces of jewellery he was holding in his hand. Chell had demurred at first, saying it was going to take time, given that he had a day job and all. But Chell had obliged and he had given the Bolian a great hug which had the man choking up.
"So, who is your secret Valentine?" Chell had asked.
"No-one important."
"You could have fooled me. You want to tell me I sweated nights in the science lab manufacturing a thing of such beauty - even if I say so myself - just so you can throw it away? Thinking of hitting it off with Marla Gilmore?"
Well, he loved Marla truly as the greatest friend here and on Earth, but he was certainly not in love with her. She had her eyes on the second-in-command of Security, and lately it seemed Magnus Rollins was warming to her at last. He only ever wanted to see Marla happy and now, it warmed his heart a great deal to see her smiling, laugh out loud, practising the violin in the holodeck with the great Pinchas Zuckerman, her devoted hologram partner and maestro.
No, it wasn't Marla, and his gift was not a love gift, contrary to what Chell thought.
"Well, we drew random names. I have not drawn the name of one whom I could ever marry," he told Chell, smiling as he brought to the fore an image of his recipient.
"Still, I can see you hope your recipient will make good use of the gift." It was a wonder Chell hadn't decided the recipient was either male or female.
"Or," he countered, "it could simply be a token of my appreciation and respect."
"Yes, that too..." said Chell, and Noah had the distinct impression Chell was having fun at his expense.
**********************************
It was evening, and in Claudia's large, airy suite Kathryn stood, stripped naked except for a loin cloth that served as undergarment and the sandals she wore, strapped round her ankles in dainty knots. Julia gasped, but covered her mouth with her hand very quickly. Kathryn thought the girl was drawn to her colouring, which was exceedingly pale compared to the healthy tanned figures of mother and daughter.
"You are very pale, Lady Aurelia."
"I have not been in the sun too much, young Julia, to enjoy a healthy tan like you have." Kathryn was genuinely appreciative, and really meant it about not being in the sun. When was it that they had last seen Earth's sun? Still, she didn't feel self-conscious standing in front of Julia and Claudia.
Chakotay was still talking to Venantius and Diocles, who had insisted he was man enough to sit in on a conversation of his elders. Chakotay had balked at being called an elder, though he was probably older than Venantius. Diocles had declared that he would be an emperor one day and that there would be many changes once he was in office. Kathryn didn't doubt for one second that he was telling the truth. There had been a Diocletian as emperor of Rome. Once they were back on Voyager, they could find out for sure.
"You still have far to travel. Then you will feel the sun's healing on your skin."
Kathryn thought how sunlight could actually kill, but they couldn't know that.
Claudia tied a cloth around her breasts that served as a brassiere, something Roman women wore under their tunics and stolas. Then she gave a soft gasp as Claudia lifted a garment from a kist, woven of the finest linen, in pure white with a green brocaded band running along the hem.
"It is beautiful," she whispered. "I cannot accept this from you, Claudia."
"Nonsense. In two weeks Venantius will travel to the market where eastern travellers sell their linens, and he will purchase a new stola for me. Do not fret so, Aurelia."
Kathryn gave a sigh as Claudia pulled the stola over her head, and tied a cord round her waist, fixing an intricate knot in front. Julia had brought extra pins for her hair and gasped again when she felt the softness. It was something they had to lie about, unfortunately, when asked a few pertinent things.
"How did you get your hair so beautiful and soft?" Julia asked.
"I think you could extract the juice of an apple, then you could mix it with a little wine. When you wash your hair, perhaps you could use that..."
Julia graced her with her inimitable smile, as if the world had opened up for her. Valentinus was for the moment forgotten. She turned her attention to Claudia who retrieved another garment from the kist. Kathryn thought it was the famous palla Roman and Greek women wore over their stolas. A single piece of fabric almost four metres long, draped over her left shoulder, pulled up under her right arm, with the end piece hanging over her left arm.
"There, you look very beautiful, Aurelia, for your visit."
Kathryn basked in their praise.
"Thank you, Lady Claudia."
"The lord Silas will be very surprised, I think." Claudia smiled, then clucked a few times when Julia didn't pin Kathryn's hair up properly. Kathryn had been very careful to pin her commbadge back on the stola, now hidden under the palla, so that she could actually understand what the mother was scolding the daughter about in Latin. They had been completely unmindful of the language distortions, thinking that Kathryn and Chakotay were Greeks or of Greek origin and that they had a problem with the language. It worked in their favour.
"Yes," Kathryn replied softly as she surveyed herself in the Roman version of a mirror. "The lord Silas will be surprised.
Her thoughts strayed to the late afternoon, when they had been taken by Venantius to visit Valentinus in prison. A Roman soldier guarded the outer entrance to the corridor that led to the condemned man's cell.
They had not known what to expect when taken there and all the while she had held Chakotay's hand, an action that brought knowing and indulgent smiles from Venantius and his family. Surprisingly, there was not the dank smell Kathryn expected as they walked down the long corridor, passing other prisoners. The Roman soldier remained rigid on his guard. As long as Venantius was with them, he was not concerned that Valentinus would escape.
They were not prepared for the youthful looks of the young priest. He couldn't have been older than twenty two, his face clean and open, fired with purpose. He wore what Kathryn thought could have been a precursor to the garments of the Franciscan monks, with the hood down. His hair was the colour of ripe corn, his eyes dark, like Chakotay's. He was clean-shaven, like they had seen most young men in the town. Only some older men like Venantius wore beard. Valentinus was also barefoot.
"Valentinus, I have brought for you two visitors," said Venantius, his voice somewhat gruff.
"I am Silas of Macedonia - "
"A Greek," said Valentinus, surprising them with the melodious tones of his voice.
"And I am Aurelia. Silas and I travel together."
With only the light from a candle Venantius supplied, they were able to see Valentinus's face. Venantius had left them alone with the prisoner.
"Silas and Aurelia. What brings you to see a man condemned to die in the morning at the first crow of the cock?"
"We wished to see him whom Emperor Claudius judged unfairly," said Chakotay.
"We wish to know why it is that you continue to join in marriage young people who desire to walk the same road for the rest of their lives."
"I cannot offer you the comfort of great cushions to sit on, nor a table laden with fruit to eat, but please, could you sit down?"
They did, finding the ground hard and uncomfortable, but nevertheless glad they could still talk to Valentinus. Kathryn made herself as comfortable as she could, noting that Chakotay did the same. The priest looked at them, his gaze penetrating.
"Thank you, Valentinus," said Kathryn, her mind whirling. In less than twenty four hours Valentinus would be dead. It wasn't even a fact they could withhold from him since it was something he knew anyway.
"You ask why I continue marrying young people whom I believe should be together? Did young Julia not tell you? I have nothing to lose, my friends."
"But, is there nothing that can be done?"
"My fate is inexorable. In the morning I will die. That is all there is to it."
"You should fight, Valentinus."
"The great and enlightened Emperor Claudius, lately returned from his campaign against the Goths, thinks otherwise. Venantius has told you why a ruler would keep his soldiers unhappy?"
Kathryn nodded.
"I do not wish to fight," said Valentinus. "I have lived my life and experienced the fullness of the Lord's grace, my friends. When they have brought young men and women to me even as I am here, incarcerated, it has given me the greatest pleasure to perform that in which I believe with my whole heart. Love knows no bounds; it cannot be restrained by laws, or by decrees or by the hand of humans who wish to keep young lovers apart. By the grace of God, they are destined for one another, and by God's grace I have been given the chance to fulfil His promise and His path for those whom He in His infinite mercy put together. This morning I married the young tribune Lucius Tullius Severinus and the Lady Livia. Lucius Tullius has gone against his grandfather's wishes and against the wishes of General Plotius. I have seen their eyes, their resolve. Yes...yes, I feel I have done the right thing. They were overjoyed..."
"They passed us early this morning. We could see their happiness, although they did ride away in great haste."
"Lucius Tullius reports to General Plotius tomorrow. They have a great distance to travel. Did you know that Lucius Tullius is also the greatest charioteer in Rome?"
He drove magnificent horses, thought Kathryn. He looked a lot like Tom Paris behind the controls of the Delta Flyer.
"No, we did not."
"Your first question. You believe I was judged unfairly. But I was judged by the Emperor of Rome. According to law, the sentence must be carried out. I have resigned myself to my fate and understand that it is only my body that will receive the punishment and not my soul. In that, my friends, I enjoy freedom such as the enlightened Claudius II Gothicus shall never experience. Yes, I am free."
But Kathryn was concerned. Valentinus could be saved, she knew. They could smuggle him out of the cell and out of the town. No one would ever know.
"It seems unfair, Valentinus. You have done nothing but the work of your faith, in good faith," said Chakotay.
"In this life, there are many things we shall always deem unfair. We can cry against injustice, against the terrible treatment of slaves, wars that serve no purpose, against mindless subjugation of the spirit. Tell me, have you ever been treated unfairly? You are not young. You are filled with life's experiences. There must have been a time in your lives when you have experienced injustice, pain, disharmony, yet you are here, in this cell with me, full of the promise of life. It has made you stronger, has it not? You cannot take those things and wish them out of your life, for they are indelible now, a part of what your life has become.
"Do you know what I enjoyed most about performing the ceremony of the joining? To see in the eyes of the couple, a life that must be lived, the expectation of a future they know nothing of yet are willing to meet. It is as if they know in their hearts and souls that they will never have another life and that the one they have will be the only one. It is precious, it is God-given, it is a gift. They have accepted a challenge because they love and they believe that one will never be complete without the other. They are so young, yet they know what they desire from the life that has been given them.
"You know your path too, yet I sense there are many obstacles in the way of true and fulfilling happiness. It is as though you fear that the hand that one holds out to you, will be pulled back. It will never be pulled back, but you must overcome that obstacle and trust that the hand will always be stretched towards you. Is that not what trust is? You cannot see but you know it is always there. All you need to do is leap, is it not so?"
Kathryn nodded but remained quiet, her heart filled with the power of Valentinus's words.
"What do your family say, Valentinus?" Chakotay asked.
A very long silence ensued. Then a soft sigh followed. Valentinus turned his face away from them, the soft glow of the lit candle throwing his face into some blend of shadow and profile so that it looked as if he were deep in thought. He was deep in thought, the lines of strain showing for the first time on his youthful face. A nerve twitched in his jaw. Kathryn thought that despite his strength, the preparedness of what was to happen to him, he was worried about something. Then he turned to look at them again. Did a tear roll down his cheek? Did his lips tremble slightly?
"If I have any regrets about my life," he started, "it is that I cannot see my parents, my brother and young sister Hannah and tell them that above all that dwell on this earth, I love them. My young sister...her name is Hebrew, did you know?"
"Could Venantius not arrange something?"
"It is too late. They live in Antioch, the birthplace of Lucanus. Word has been sent to them, but they will be too late... I have not seen them these three years. Also, I do not wish for them to witness my...death."
"I am sorry that you will not be able to see your family."
Kathryn thought how Tom Paris hadn't wanted to see his parents when he was in jail. This was different. A young man who would never see the light of day again, yet was so imbued with the spirit of goodwill, even for the Emperor, and so far from his loved ones. They realised how much he had looked forward to the young Julia visiting him, Julia whom, they'd learned, had been blind and cured by Valentinus.
"Yes. That is my only cross, but a cross that I must bear."
"By all that is holy, Valentinus, how can you sit there - ?"
"Lady Aurelia, more than two hundred years ago, a Man such as this world has never seen, took the world's burdens on His shoulders and died in the name of loving that same world. He was innocent as you believe I am innocent; manacled and beaten, spat on by his own people, chosen by them to die in the place of a man who was a common criminal, a thief and murderer. A Man, greater than I can ever hope to be, who sacrificed His life. I believe in Him, in His infinite power of love and follow His example. I am but small, but I tell you this, my fiends: not a whip that shall flog my back, or stone that shall crush my body shall take away my joy in seeing Him."
Kathryn felt like crying. This was the Valentine, the real Valentine, sitting in jail awaiting final execution.
"Please, I desire to be alone now," Valentinus said, his voice soft, tired.
Back at the home of Venantius, they had both been quiet after their meeting with Valentinus. Their hearts were heavy. Chakotay spoke little. She had taken his hand in hers, and felt how damp his palm had been, how his fingers trembled. He had been preoccupied after that, closed off.
Now, as she stood in Claudia's room, the sun's rays growing longer by the minute, with darkness soon settling, Kathryn touched the palla, fingering the fabric absently. Valentinus's words had touched her too, every syllable becoming the balm that soothed her battered soul, slowly but surely healing her.
Then she straightened as Claudia came forward with the final garment, of a deep russet-bronze colouring, which she placed carefully over Kathryn's head.
"Thank you, Lady Claudia. You have done much for me. I do not know if I shall ever see you again. Our journey is long, the road filled with thorns and thistles. I thank you."
Claudia clasped her hands together. Her eyes filled with tears, her voice tremulous as she spoke.
"I wish in my heart things could have been different for Valentinus. But my husband, he must follow orders. You do understand that, do you not?"
"Yes, I understand, Lady Claudia. I understand that an innocent man is to die because he believed in the truth."
Claudia shook her head. Julia was in tears. She had become Valentinus's lifeline to the outside world, a voice, a listener, something that made his last days less bitter, less lonely. Julia had an uncommon bond with the condemned man; she visited him often, took him flowers. Julia, blind, miraculously healed by Valentinus. Julia gave a deep sob, then she rushed out, returning moments later with the violets she had picked that morning.
"Please, Lady Aurelia, could you give him these? He always liked flowers, especially violets. He said they filled him with hope."
"I promise to give it to him. Thank you, Julia."
Kathryn made sure her commbadge was concealed, feeling for it through the fabric of the palla.
"Come, we must leave now," Claudia said as she took Kathryn's arm and led her out of the villa, where she was met by a Roman soldier who like a footman, guided her into the litter. Four slaves carried the litter away from the house of Venantius, leaving behind a tearful Claudia and Julia who waved as they receded into the distance.
And although Claudia and Julia were tearful when she departed, they would follow her later as they had arranged.
The ride in the litter was surprisingly smooth, and not as bumpy as she had expected. Looking at the bouquet of violets, she smiled to herself. Hope, indeed! Valentinus's words had had an impact on her, so much so that while walking back to the house with Chakotay, an idea formed and the more she had given it thought, the quieter she had become. Only inside her it had churned with a heady new excitement. She rarely acted on impulse and today she had done just that. First, her instinctive grasp of Chakotay's hand which elicted such pleasure from him. His face had lit up and it had given her an almighty fillip, making her heart race when she realised he still wanted her. She had been preoccupied and knew it puzzled Chakotay somewhat. But her mind was whirling with brilliant possibilities, brilliant because she felt so much lighter. Acting on her idea was not an impulse, but a driving desire to fulfil her life, the prospect so exhilarating that she could hardly wait to see Claudia.
Back at the home of Claudia and Venantius, she had spoken of her plan with Claudia.
She had taken Valentinus's words to heart, had felt a great burden lift from her and it made her lightheaded with a newfound joy the moment she knew what path she wanted to follow. It broke through her reserve; the walls she had erected came tumbling down, leaving in their wake only billows of dust. She had one life, was what Valentinus said. It was the only one she was ever entitled to, given to her through a divine Plan.
The way she planned her life, she was going to be a lonely woman for the rest of it. The way Valentinus spoke of life, through his implicit beliefs, a higher power planned it. There was only one way her life could go - a path on which the man she loved would walk side by side with her forever.
Chakotay.
Kathryn gave a sigh. How blind she had been! How divine her liberation from her self-imposed bounds!
So many times she had seen the disappointment in Chakotay's eyes, the disconsolate droop to his bearing when she gently tried to extricate herself from him. She had been blind. Blind! Young Julia displayed greater trust and faith, Julia who had been blind, healed through faith by Valentinus.
Kathryn lifted the bouquet, inhaling its fragrance.
Closing her eyes, she pictured him, seeing his beloved face, the dimpled cheek she had so often wanted to caress. Her heart burned with love for him. He had done so many things for her. Now it was her turn to give him a precious gift.
Claudia had been the perfect matron, opening her kist of linens and choosing the garments Kathryn now wore.
"I have everything you need for a formal ceremony, Lady Aurelia. The Lord Silas will be much surprised! Happy and much surprised!"
Yes, thought Kathryn as the reached the prison gates, Chakotay will get the surprise of his life.
I have never felt better about any decision I have made in my life...
*****
It was already dark and Chakotay was worried that he hadn't seen Kathryn all afternoon. But as things went even in the year 269, in a town a few kilometres outside one of the greatest cities of Earth, women clustered together and the men sat in the atrium talking of war, the great Caesars, the years of the soldier emperors, elected to the city state's highest office because of their outstanding distinctions in war. This time Diocles had listened with great interest and again, storing valuable lessons in his mind. He looked destined to become a soldier, rising through the ranks of the Roman army, becoming one of its great generals and eventually, like they had discussed earlier, one of Rome's great emperors.
Emperor Diocletian.
Chakotay gave an inward chuckle at the way the boy listened at times with open-mouthed amazement.
Now it had gone dark and Kathryn was nowhere to be seen. He had gone in search of Claudia.
"Tell me please, have you seen the Lady Aurelia?" he asked. Claudia clasped her hands together almost in deference. They had shown little surprise or curiosity at his tattoo when they had arrived in the morning, Venantius stating blandly that men and women were allowed to mark themselves as signs of tribal affiliation or religion. With the coming of the Barbarians to the Empire, they had seen many strange looking peoples.
"Lord Silas, do not be alarmed. The Lady Aurelia is not here. She has sent for you."
"Sent for me? Where is she?"
Claudia didn't answer. Instead, treading softly away from him and returning minutes later, she presented him with two garments.
"My son Diocles will help you. The Lady Aurelia has asked that you wear this."
Chakotay took the garments from her. Claudia knew where Kathryn was. A few patrician families were settled on large estates outside the town of Terni. Kathryn was probably already at the home of one of them, thinking to surprise him. The morning when they had walked through the town, they had seen a litter bearing a beautiful woman, probably the wife of an aristocrat. Kathryn had been fascinated by the little scene of a litter being borne by four slaves, by the woman who had stared at them through the curtain. His heart settled again, away from the mild anxiety of earlier. If Kathryn made the request, who was he to refuse her? Besides, they were betrothed, weren't they? She had made her intention of reaching out to him very clear. It thrilled him, her changing feelings shown to him without the old closing up that used to frustrate him so.
It had been an unseasonably hot day and he had to get out of his tunic and the cumbersome undergarment he was wearing. He experienced a mild jolt when Diocles spoke behind him.
"Lord Silas, follow me."
In the boy's room , Venantius was waiting for them. A tunic of ankle length was laid out on the cot. Just above the seam was a band of maroon. Clearly something that the plebeians didn't wear. Was it their own bearing and speech that gave the family the impression that they too were aristocratic? He hadn't made any comment the entire day about being called "Lord Silas", or Kathryn referred to as "Lady Aurelia".
"This new tunic is easy to dress. You will need assistance with the toga," said Venantius.
"Venantius..."
"Yes, Lord Silas?"
"Do you know something that I don't know?" he asked as he removed his old tunic and put the new one on.
"Nothing, except that the women have arranged that you meet the Lady Aurelia at the Gate of Orion."
"The Gate of Orion," he repeated, falling into reverie again while Venantius patiently draped the toga around his body.
Chakotay had hidden his commbadge in the folds of his undergarment and father and son were unaware of its presence. Later he would retrieve it and pin it to his tunic just under the first layer of the toga that was draped over him. Kathryn was strange. She had been preoccupied all afternoon, then had vanished mysteriously with Claudia and Julia. He hoped she wasn't planning on breaking Valentinus from prison. She had been visibly affected by his plight. They knew all the laws and bylaws of the Prime Directive and the Temporal Prime Directive, that it was an offence to corrupt the timeline or change history.
Kathryn knew those rules better than anyone. It would be folly. Still, he had to dress up for whatever lay at the Gate of Orion and he wasn't going to disappoint her. Maybe they would go from there to the mysterious veiled lady of the litter. Venantius had draped the toga around him and was pulling here and there to straighten it.
"There, Lord Silas. Now you can take your sack again from which you have barely allowed yourself to be parted today. I shall accompany you to the Gate of Orion."
Outside, it was dark and Venantius walked ahead of him as they navigated the dusty streets of the town.
"What I cannot understand, Silas, is that Valentinus cured our Julia of her blindness. They say the Christ performed many miracles. He cured the blind and made the lame to walk again. He even raised Lazarus from the dead. Some of His apostles too, performed miracles. Could not Valentinus walk out of the prison cell like the Apostle of Fire did?"
He had no idea who the Apostle of Fire was.
"Valentinus is very clear about his path and the plan of...God for him," replied Chakotay, thinking how ablaze with his mission Valentinus was. "I do not think he wishes to walk out of the prison. He is a very selfless man."
"I know. He means to be a martyr, I think," replied Venantius.
"Perhaps. Perhaps not. When we spoke with him this afternoon, I did not think that being a martyr was on his mind."
Chakotay thought how Valentinus would be remembered forever and be synonymous with love and the celebration of pure love on the fourteenth day of February. He didn't think Valentinus had any thoughts of becoming a martyr. But he couldn't tell Venantius this.
"Well, it pains me to think of his fate," he said instead. "One wishes that the emperor had decided differently."
"I spit on him for just that, Lord Silas. Just that. Guarding innocent men in a prison...it is the least enviable of tasks." Venantius was quiet for several minutes. Then he said again, "The least enviable of tasks."
When they approached the prison, Venantius walked up to the main gates.
"Why are we coming here?" he asked, perplexed. "Were we not supposed to go to the Gate of Orion? Did the Lady Aurelia not visit one of the patrician ladies?"
"This is the Gate of Orion, Silas. I shall take you to see Valentinus first."
He hid his surprise well as he walked behind Venantius through the main gate and proceeded to the long corridor towards where Valentinus was. He was supposed to be taken to Kathryn. Why couldn't he go to Kathryn? The Roman guards ignored them. It was dark in the corridor, although Chakotay detected light coming from Valentinus's cell. His heart sank. He wanted to see Kathryn. He had no idea where she was. He'd somehow have to hail her on his commbadge the moment he was alone. Then they'd have to hide out in the shuttle until it was time to rendezvous with Voyager.
When they approached the cell, Venantius unlocked it and bade Chakotay to step inside.
"Welcome, Lord Silas," said Valentinus.
But Chakotay had eyes only for the vision standing next to him. A vision dressed in a stola and palla, wearing a red veil. In the light of the single candle burning in the cell, he saw her smile, the mouth curving at the corner, the eyes warm as they rested on him.
"Kathryn?"
***********************************************
PART FIVE
Kathryn lay on the bunk, tossing her head in uneasy sleep. One hand slumped loosely over the side, the other hand resting on her bosom. From time to time her fingers moved, or twitched. Her head rested on a soft pillow. The curls of the hairpiece were swept up, with the pins and rows of pearls still adorning her head. Her face appeared restless, the eyeballs often moving under the closed eyelids. She still wore the stola and palla, and the russet veil had slipped from her head some time ago, now draped around her shoulder.
Chakotay sat on the opposite bunk, watching her sleep. A deep sigh escaped him. It felt to him impossible, beyond the comprehension of human understanding and emotion, that in the space of a few hours they could have experienced the most consecrated, holy of ceremonies and at the same time the most harrowing, evil manifestation of man's impulse to inflict injustice. Driven by a completely egoistic rationalization, which, while cupped in the paradox of such expressions, mainly had at the core a self-centred desire to inflict injury on the innocent, heaven and hell came together in the town of Terni.
And Kathryn had taken it hard. In her life she had seen people die. She had seen her own father and fiancé die, and had been filled with a rage that she had been powerless to save them. That event had helped to shape her into the Captain Janeway he knew. Kathryn lived with guilt and regrets and over the years had managed those emotions and successfully, concealing them where they, once exposed, could throw her for days into a depressing melancholy, a fact of which he was only too well aware.
Now, Heaven. Hell. Together.
Planned by a Mastermind to ensure that his subjects could know, understand, feel, experience, curse, worship, subjugate, fear, and yes, even distort the building blocks of his plan for mankind. Man would feel his soul torn apart by heaven as much as it could be torn apart by hell.
Kathryn, like she had so many times before, even now, in this age, this year, out of time and place, home and not home, had not been spared.
Chakotay wiped his brow, weary of the events of the past day and a half, weary of thinking.
Thinking took him back into the night, when, accompanied by Venantius, he had entered the cell of Valentinus.
Kathryn had stood there... He had been mesmerized.
"Good Silas," said Valentinus, "you are in time."
He had not taken his eyes off Kathryn who stood there in the light of the single candle perched on a mud brick on the floor. Kathryn, whose eyes were on him, whose gaze was fearless. His heart hammered, a thunderous explosion of beats he was certain they could hear. He turned, and was surprised to see Julia, Claudia, Diocles and two cousins of Claudia to whom they had been introduced that morning. Also present was a young soldier whose eyes blazed with some inner power, a joy of life. Chakotay knew his presence meant only one thing: Valentinus had converted him.
"Why am I here?" he asked, though the knowledge of what was about to happen had slowly dawned on him, a knowledge that made his thumping heart beat even faster. He felt breathless, his hands clammy.
"The Lady Aurelia's wish is that her betrothed be joined to her in marriage here, before you leave for other worlds," Valentinus said, his words tinged with prophecy. "She has told me that you would find this arrangement suitable..."
Images of Kathryn turning from his advances, of Kathryn saying 'no', of Kathryn hiding behind masks he thought would never be separated from her skin, assailed him. Too many, including the present ones, of Kathryn's eyes directly on him, of thinking that she had agreed to marry him at last, of the knowledge that she would be his wife, absolutely astounding. His mind reeled from shock as he turned from Kathryn to look at Valentinus.
"Yes, I desire it as much as Aurelia does. It has been my most fervent yearning. We belong together..."
"I have seen that, good Silas. I have seen that."
The next few minutes were a blur. He stood facing Kathryn. Valentinus joined their hands, wrapping Kathryn's palla around them. Then he placed his own hands on their cloth covered ones, one hand resting on the other. He looked from Kathryn to Chakotay, then cast his glance at the witnesses - Venantius, Claudia, her two cousins, her children Diocles and Julia - before returning his gaze to them again.
"In the eyes of our Lord, the Christ, son of God, we join together Aurelia and Silas of Macedonia in holy marriage. We take from them the example of their love, of their faith that has shone forth from them and that shall continue to shine; that we feel the power of it in our hearts. Through all adversity, through sickness, through health, through days of darkness and days of sunshine, they vow before God to walk the same road for as long as they shall be together on this earth..."
Chakotay felt his eyes sting. It was his dream, and now it was Kathryn's dream too. He felt her fingers squeezing his hand.
"Aurelia," came Valentinus's voice as if climbing through a fog and reaching him, "will declare her vows to you, Silas of Macedonia."
Chakotay blinked, then nodded mutely when Kathryn indicated she was ready. The words issued from her - clear, melodious, warm and mellow as she began her vows...
"Quando tu Gaius ego Gaia... Quando tu Gaius ego Gaia... Quando tu Gaius ego Gaia...
Over and over she chanted the words. When Kathryn said the vow the last time, her voice faltered. He heard a sob. Her eyes filled with tears. Even then, as he looked at her, Valentinus removed the palla that bound their hands together and Claudia once again draped the garment around Kathryn.
Now, he noticed for the first time the cord at Kathryn's waist tied in an unusual knot.
Calmly, reverently Valentinus raised their hands again, guided Chakotay's hand to hold the knot, then tied the rest of the cord around his wrist with Kathryn holding on to him.
"Lady Aurelia, you now belong to Lord Silas, and Silas, you now belong to Aurelia. As her husband, only you may untie the knot of love. Therefore, before the eyes of God and all present here, you are united. Let no man rend this union asunder..."
He had never kissed Kathryn. He had wanted to do so since he had first seen her. For seven years, it remained a yearning in him that he could one day touch her as a lover, as a husband. He leaned forward and tenderly brushed his lips against her. She felt soft, giving, warm, free. Another sob escaped her as he broke the kiss. Then they both looked at Valentinus who smiled at them. Chakotay released the knot and pulled Kathryn closer. Her eyes gleamed darkly with muted passion and love.
"Thank you..." he whispered.
Minutes later the cell was empty except for the three of them. Venantius had taken his family home, with a very reluctant Julia following. The young Roman soldier had soon vanished too.
"Valentinus, we wish to remain with you until morning," Kathryn said as they sat down again.
"I am at peace, Aurelia. It is not necessary..."
"Your family... I - we can help you with a letter you can write them," Kathryn said, her eyes heated. Chakotay knew she wouldn't want to leave things undone. It was her way. If she could help Valentinus in any way, she would.
"There is nothing here that I can use. It has been forbidden," he replied.
Brought back to the present, Chakotay realised that he was sitting with his head in his hands. Kathryn had fallen into a deep slumber. He was glad that she was sleeping even though he had had to give her a sedative when they returned to the shuttle. She had been too distraught to calm down, though to all the world she appeared quite normal. But he knew her and it was her way of coping with extreme trauma.
Leaning forward, he touched her cheek in a soft caress.
Sighing, he sat back, leaning his head against the bulkhead.
Oh, yes, they had helped Valentinus write his letter. He had - why he even thought that it might be of use - replicated a few sheets of parchment which he had kept in his hessian sack. They had paper at least.
"I think we can crush the flowers to a pulp," Kathryn suggested. She still had the violets Julia had given her and Valentinus had been curious about how they were going to go about producing ink. "The stem...well, we can use the stem as a pen..." she added reflectively.
"What are you going to do?" asked Valentinus of the newly married couple.
Kathryn had removed one of the pins from her hair and pushed it through the short flower stem. Chakotay had taken the violets and began crushing them on the mud brick, localising the work area and keeping it small. The violets were deep ink-purple and if nothing else, would serve its purpose. He turned the candle over to drip some hot wax on the flower pulp, continuing to mix it together. When it started to harden, he looked around him. There was no water, no food that they had seen Valentinus eat.
"I must beg your pardon," Chakotay said as he produced some saliva and spit on the mixture to get a more runny texture. It seemed to work.
"Valentinus, you can write your message now."
The young priest's eyes were filled with gratitude as they handed him the implements. Then they sat in the corner, his arms around Kathryn. Her mouth quivered and he squeezed her gently, trying to reassure her. Filled with joy and dread at the same time, he wondered how they would get through the night. Valentinus was doomed. He knew that. Kathryn knew that. At the first crow of the cock in the morning, the executioner would know that.
They watched him write, slow and laborious. Valentinus would sit still for endless minutes, his head thrown up as if in prayer, before continuing.
"It is finished," Valentinus said finally, and Chakotay jerked to wakefulness, hardly aware that he had dropped into a light slumber. Kathryn also stirred, shifting so that he could get up.
Quickly, he moved to Valentinus who handed him the note. Chakotay blew on it, allowing the ink to dry. Then he carefully scrolled it and slid it into a small wooden cylinder. Valentinus nodded, giving Chakotay another grateful look.
"You will stay with me?"
"If that is your wish, Valentinus," Kathryn replied.
"I thank you."
After that, they fell into silence. They could see the creeping hours taking their toll on Valentinus. He looked drawn and tired. The candle was burning very low; soon there would be complete darkness, with only the light from the moon creeping through the narrow vent high up one wall of the cell, throwing macabre shadows on the walls. Still, it didn't detract from the grace, the profound dignity of the man. He lay on the floor, on his back, his arms stretched out, his eyes on the ceiling. They saw how his lips moved and realised he was in prayer or deep meditation. Chakotay's eyes stung and as he closed them, unable to bear the grief that would follow, the grief that was already taking hold of them, felt the first tears roll down his cheek.
Kathryn rested her head against his chest, and together they sat, watching as Valentinus shifted position and lay prone, prostrating himself before his God. His lips never stopped moving, never stopped their fearless utterance of prayer. Did some of the power of his whispered words touch them too? He wondered many times during the night at that, for there were times he felt overcome by a supreme sense of peace, his body sagging into an immovable mass of serenity. The way Kathryn's body shifted against him, a turn of her head, or her hands that rested against him, sometimes catching his own hand in hers. In the tenderness, the solace in those touches, he knew that she too felt Valentinus's extraordinary serenity.
Then there were times that the priest's body shuddered, as though an invisible lance had pierced his side. Those times Valentinus murmured aloud, as if he fought an invisible foe, grappling, grappling, then finally sagging in exhaustion. When he once more lay on his back, arms outstretched, they saw how the beads of perspiration turned into droplets of blood.
What was this miracle they witnessed?
They never slept after that but kept a vigil as Valentinus lay there, praying. Chakotay sensed as perhaps Kathryn couldn't, that Valentinus was already dying, preparing his own body for the final moments. He had already entered a spiritual realm when he communicated, battled, beseeched, accepted. Valentinus had been right when he spoke with them that afternoon. No matter how painful the lashing of the whip on his body, or the blows of stones, he would not feel it. It was the most amazing thing Chakotay witnessed: a man preparing to die - a man who was noble in every sense of the word.
Chakotay had quietly removed the tricorder to monitor Valentinus's body temperature which had already begun to drop. When Kathryn stirred, he slipped the instrument quickly back in his bag.
"Chakotay..." Her voice
"Yes?" he whispered back.
"We must get him out of here, please..."
"Kathryn, we can't..."
Then Kathryn fell quiet, deep in thought, clutching him close. The candle died. As the morning breathed in the air of dawn, its purplish-grey light filtered through the vent touching the priest, breaking the monotony of the dark, almost black walls. Soon the cock would crow. Chakotay's heart began to race. Valentinus had finally sat up and now, he looked again at them.
"The hour has come. I am not afraid."
They heard footsteps down the corridor. Chakotay and Kathryn jumped up. Moments later, a tribune, flanked by two soldiers, stood at the grille. Even at this hour, they appeared magnificent in their uniforms, especially the tribune with chiselled features, tanned, rugged. One soldier unlocked the grille, then stepped back. Chakotay wondered where Venantius was, since he was the chief jailer.
"Come," the tribune barked.
Slowly, but with deliberate ease, as if he hadn't lain prone or on his back the entire night on a hard floor, Valentinus rose to his feet. The two soldiers stepped inside and bound his hands. The condemned man turned to face them, but was pushed roughly towards the cell entrance, stumbling.
"Tell them that I love them," he called as he was escorted away.
They disappeared down the corridor, the soldiers shouting what he thought were profanities. Just as they prepared to leave the cell too, three more soldiers appeared, stopping dead in front of them.
"You! You are to come with us - "
"We have done nothing wrong," Chakotay said, pulling Kathryn to him the moment one soldier tried to grab her. They were going to Venantius's villa and keep a vigil with his family, preferring to remain with the stricken Julia and her mother and brother. But the solders, hardened warriors, had no time for their sensibilities. They were following orders.
"You have been with the condemned man. He has gone against the wishes of the empire and so have you by remaining with him in his cell. The noble tribune Marcus Crassus must be obeyed. He has lost his most trusted and valorous warrior, Lucius Tullius Severinus, whom the infidel prisoner has joined in marriage yesterday. You have encouraged the infidel prisoner in a practice forbidden by our enlightened Emperor Claudius II himself. Now," the soldier continued as the other two quickly flanked them, gripping Kathryn's arm and his, "you are to be punished."
"We are innocent. Visitors to Terni -"
The soldier pulling Kathryn gave a loud cackle.
"You shall watch Valentinus die!"
"No! No!"
*************************************************
Chakotay felt the bile rise, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. With clenched fists against his damp forehead, he leaned forward, trying to dispel the creeping nausea. Everything that happened after the three soldiers - the one with the mole was called Gracchus - bundled them away from the prison to the town centre, had become a blur of shock, images of people already lining the streets at the hour. In a daze, he heard the first crow of the cock, heard the laughter of the soldiers, heard some people who shouted "The emperor has banished love from the empire!'
He took Kathryn's hand. She looked at him through tear-filled eyes.
"Transport us away from here, for God's sake!"
"What did you say?" asked the mole-faced Gracchus. "You will escape? Fabius, bring the restraints!"
The soldiers tied their hands behind their backs and continued to march them to the town square. No matter how he struggled, it was impossible with four Roman soldiers escorting them. Kathryn stumbled.
"Can't you see you're hurting her?" Chakotay yelled at them. The next moment Fabius struck him across the face with the back of his hand. He tasted blood at the corner of his mouth. It was going to be impossible to reach into his hessian sack and retrieve the site to site transporter. They would have to dematerialise with hundreds of people watching. Shaking his head, he looked at Kathryn, imploring her not to resist.
They reached the square, with the soldiers unceremoniously barging through the throng to place them in the front.
"Oh, God, Chakotay..." Kathryn cried.
There in the middle stood what they could only presume to be a retired gladiator, flexing a long whip. Propped up between two poles stood Valentinus. The first blows had already left ugly weals across his back. He closed his eyes. Gracchus struck him.
"Keep your eyes open! We're only just beginning!"
Kathryn cried out as a soldier struck her too. He struggled vainly against the restraints. If he could get his hands on Fabius, he would squeeze the life out of him. Blinded by rage, he jerked hard, then head-butted Fabius.
"Leave her alone!"
"Rufus Publius! Here!" yelled Gracchus.
How old was the practice of using small sticks to keep the eyes open? Chakotay wondered as they held Kathryn while Rufus Publius pried her eyelids open. .
"Aurelia!"
"No!" Kathryn cried, struggled as her eyelids were kept propped open by the sticks. Another smack across her cheek left her sobbing. Rufus turned to him and seconds later he too, peered at the tableau in front of them, powerless, enraged, unable to blink. The scratching of his eyeballs and underside of his eyelids left him tearing. He had seen Cardassians torture Bajorans and Maquis; he had killed a few of them himself. He had stared death in the face in a Cardassian prison. He had himself been the victim of torture. Some ancient practices of torture they had only heard of... He tried to shake off the hold the soldiers had on him while they were laughing. His hands were tied. He screamed at them. Then, a stinging lash across his cheek left him bleeding.
He had to watch. Kathryn... Spirits...
The blows rained on Valentinus's back - first, the snap flexing of the whip, then the arm of the gladiator pulled back to let it whistle through the air before it cracked against the ruined back of the tortured man. His blonde hair was caked with blood that gushed from a wound in his head, signs that he had been beaten while they marched him to the square.
Kathryn cried open-eyed. They held her so she couldn't move, forced to watch as finally, the whipping stopped.
They thought it was over...
"All ye, strike the prisoner!"
Where did the rocks come from? The first rock struck Valentinus between the shoulder blades with a sick thud. He lunged forward, but tied to the posts, could not fall down.
"Dear God of mercy..."
Blood spurted as a rock hit the prisoner's head. Chakotay felt sick to his stomach as he heard the cackle of the Roman's laughter.
"A fitting beginning to the festival of Lupercalia!"
Not once did Valentinus cry out in pain. Still, the rocks kept coming. They thudded against the stricken man until finally, Valentinus slumped forward. Chakotay saw Kathryn's face, the rage and shock close to the surface. Her cheeks were streaked with tears.
"Bring the woman forward!"
"Please...no..." Kathryn cried as they pulled her to where Valentinus, now released from the poles, lay on the ground.
One soldier kicked him very hard in the ribs, then turned him over. There was no reaction. Eyes open, still-staring, glazed, it seemed to them that Valentinus had already seen the next realm.
"You will watch the final part and get a good view here, Lady."
A man, wearing a black hood with holes, approached them. He turned to Kathryn, grinned malevolently as he swung the axe above him.
Unable to close his eyes, unable to blank out the final degradation of a noble man, Chakotay watched as the executioner heaved the axe above his head, then in one fell swing, beheaded Valentinus.
Kathryn gave a cry of rage, then slumped, slipping from Gracchus's grasp. He left her lying on the ground and burst through the crowd, the spectacle already forgotten. The unruly crowd had cheered, then become deadly quiet as the final act was completed.
Blinded by rage, seeing Kathryn on the ground, Chakotay pushed at Fabius, trying to knock him out of the way.
"Let me go!" he screamed.
Suddenly, he fell to the ground. He had struggled so hard, that the moment they released their hold on him, he stumbled and fell.
The soldiers, their heinous task over, slowly moved away in the direction of their prison again. Gradually the crowd dispersed, leaving the dead man in the square.
"Untie me?" Chakotay asked one of the bystanders. Then, freed from the restraints, he removed the sticks they used to keep his eyelids open. He rushed to Kathryn where she was still lying on the ground, some of the blood of Valentinus on her stola, removed the sticks from her eyes. Thanking the spirits that they had never touched his travelling bag, maybe because his own toga was draped over it, he lifted Kathryn into his arms, turned and gave one last look at the beheaded Valentinus before dashing into the nearest alley.
How had he not seen Venantius standing a little distance away, moving towards the dead man? Had some of the soldiers restrained him too? One more look behind him and he saw the jailer, the old Roman, a general, kneeling over the mutilated body of Valentinus, making the sign of the cross.
In the alley, Kathryn had come to, moaning as he held her to him.
"Kathryn, we have to get away from here," he said urgently, knowing that the soldiers might be after them again.
But Kathryn was too distraught, too traumatised. Her eyes were bloodshot, with tiny drops of blood where the sticks had scratched tender skin. He realised that his own eyes looked the same.
"We should have saved him, Chakotay. Whisked him away from here!"
"You know better than anyone that it would be a Federation infraction. We can't change history or alter the timeline. For all we know, we have already polluted it."
"They murdered him in cold blood!" she cried, furiously thumping her fists against his chest. "Why couldn't they just let him go? Why? Why?"
She wasn't crying anymore, just dry, wracking sobs that were wrenched from deep inside her as she continued beating against him. When she was spent, she threw herself against him and he caught her, holding her close. Kathryn was feverish. "Oh, God…I didn't know…I didn't know…" the words came from her in quivering whispers, words that held a world of pain in them. "In cold blood, they murdered him. I can't bear it!"
"Come, we must go to Venantius's house. Bid them farewell. We must remain in the shuttle today until dark."
Kathryn stood away from him, her eyes heated.
"What has he done, Chakotay? What did he do other than follow his own heart and dictates? Was that a crime? They just killed an innocent man and forced us to watch. How could they do this? How? He should have had a life, a life of fulfilment, Chakotay. They stole that from him…"
Kathryn had momentarily forgotten history, how they had to let events happen as they happened. He thought of Kirk and Edith Keeler. It was her fate to die, and there was nothing Kirk could do but let history happen. Now, they had met the noblest and most courageous of men, knowing that he would die on this day, and there was nothing they could do to prevent it.
"Kathryn, listen to me, will you?"
"No, you listen! Did you see the rabble? They enjoyed what was happening. Oh, God! The torture. I can still hear the whistling of the whip…" She covered her eyes with her hands, spoke in muffled tones. "I can't bear it. Not once did he cry out. They thought nothing of what they were doing. They laughed! We should have saved him!"
"Kathryn!" he shouted this time and she rocked to attention, the tears spilling from her as he shook her.
"Listen!" he urged her. "Valentinus didn't die in vain. Think about it. If he had gone to live somewhere very far away, living out his life serving the poor and needy, no one would have known of him. No one, you hear me? He would have been forgotten in history, with not even a name to remember him by. He gave his name, his fearlessness, his legacy of love everlasting to generation after generation, century after century, millennium after millennium to be celebrated in all its glory as a time when people declare their undying devotion. He stands for all that is pure in love, because that was how he believed. He gave us the rarest gift of a marriage ceremony, in the sanctity and presence of his God, so that we can tell others, 'that is not how it happened. We know the real story…'"
He was exhausted, out of breath when he finished. Kathryn closed her eyes leaned against him in capitulation.
"It's a painful story, Kathryn, and we'll live with the scars of what we witnessed today for the rest of our lives. But remember what he said, okay? We have only this life, and we must live every single moment of it."
Kathryn smiled up at him through tear-stained eyes.
"I'll never forget the horror, Chakotay."
"I know. But we must also remember our vows, his words of wisdom. Come, we must go to Venantius's house. He won't be there, because I saw him tending to the body of Valentinus. I'm sure Venantius will arrange a funeral, give Valentinus the dignity in death that he deserves…Wait…" he said suddenly, stopping Kathryn as she moved forward. "I want to scan this," he said, taking out the scroll and his tricorder, making sure that the coast was clear. Kathryn smiled tiredly. She hadn't slept in forty eight hours.
"Good idea," she said as he scanned Valentinus's letter to his parents. Quickly he put the tricorder back in the bag.
They were quiet as they walked in the direction of the house of Venantius. There were still people milling about, some laughing, others crying, feeling like they were feeling - an injustice had been done. When they reached the house, they heard wailing. As they had suspected, Julia was inconsolable, clutching her mother. The servant had let them into the atrium and there Diocles stood watching his mother and sister.
"They couldn't bear to watch," he said. "I am very angry. Now Valentinus is dead. It will not stop the soldiers from marrying. I hate that Claudius!" he said with childish anger.
They waited until Julia had calmed down after she had been alerted to their presence. She had liked the young priest; she was the closest to him. Her father was doing his duty. Like them, he too, had been forced to remain a bystander while they tortured Valentinus. Julia drew in her breath sharply as she looked at them, probably noticing their reddened eyelids where the sticks had scratched into them. She dried her tears, wiping them away with the back of her hand, an action that made her appear so much still a child. Roman girls and boys married early. Julia was ready, if not in sensibilities, then in age, to marry a young Roman boy.
"I have something here," he said to Julia when she stood up and greeted them. "It is a letter Valentinus wrote to his parents - "
"But they live in Antioch!"
"He told us that. We know that your family will make every effort to see that they receive it. Valentinus placed a great amount of trust in you." Chakotay watched as Julia's eyes lit up for the first time. "He liked you, did he not, young Julia?" The girl nodded mutely. He glanced at Kathryn who couldn't smile, whom he could see still remembered their terror. He placed his hand around her shoulder, then addressed Julia again. "Dear Julia, although Valentinus has asked us, our road ahead is very different, and so we ask you on his behalf: will you be the custodian of this letter?"
"You are leaving?" Claudia, her mother, asked.
"Yes," Kathryn replied, her voice sounding stronger, though he knew, the terror of their ordeal lay just beneath the surface. "We must leave here. It may not be safe for us. Please, do not be too sad. We have come to know a very kind family. I wish we could have known you better. Diocles, young man, one day, you will live your dreams..."
The boy sprang forward, touched Kathryn's palla.
"Does that mean I will one day become emperor of Rome?"
"Diocles! You dream too much, my son."
"Do not worry so, good Claudia. Your son will turn out to be a fine young man."
Claudia nodded. Her husband had been a Roman general. One day, Diocles would follow in his footsteps. She was proud of her family.
"Please, good Lady Claudia, say our goodbyes to Venantius when he returns. Tell him that we understand that he had a duty to fulfil and that we are happy that he will ensure that Valentinus will be laid to rest with dignity."
Claudia nodded. On an impulse, Kathryn stepped forward and hugged the distraught woman. When she stepped back, it was Julia who threw herself against Kathryn.
They were ready to leave. Claudia would still have her headaches and still drink extract of celery to relieve her of it. Tomorrow, Venantius would be back at the prison as its chief jailer. Diocles would continue to dream of battlefields and of being the empire's greatest general after Gaius Julius Caesar whom he admired. Julia, tall, pretty with unbelievably long hair, would soon have a husband.
"Thank you, Silas of Macedonia and Aurelia," said Julia. "I have learned much from you."
"And I," added young Diocles.
"Go in peace."
Together, hand in hand as they had done the previous day, he and Kathryn left the house of Venantius and walked in the direction from which they had come. They walked slowly, taking in the air of third century Earth, admiring distractedly the field of violets. They found the footpath and after walking for about half an hour, finally hit the road on which - was it an eternity ago? - they had seen the tribune Lucius Tullius Severinus and his Lady Livia hasten towards Rome. All the images they'd collected, stored, recalled; memories that caused Kathryn to stop suddenly, her frame shuddering, the tears threatening, others that made her smile - the waning candle in the dark cell, Valentinus joining their hands in the sacred ceremony of marriage, their first kiss - were to be a part of their collective experience of their unplanned away mission.
Back in the shuttle, they had made sure no one saw them, that they were still well camouflaged. When they could finally sit down on the bunks, Kathryn broke down again. Not the rush of tears or uncontrollable sobbing, but violent shivering that went on and on as if she had been struck by a deadly, icy cold wind. She clutched her arms, her teeth chattering, her eyes...
Chakotay closed his own eyes tiredly at the memory of Kathryn's relentless shuddering. He had been forced to press her down on the bunk and administer a sedative. Only then did her body sag, the air whooshing from her as the tension left her. Her eyes fell close, but not before her hand reached for his tattoo, only to slump back limply. Then he set about regenerating the broken skin under her eyelids.
Kathryn had taken Valentinus's death hard. How would she cope when they were back on Voyager? He sighed. She was strong, he decided. She would cope. Only this time, he'd be by her side, as her confidant, as her friend, as her husband to help carry her through.
He had not slept in more than forty eight hours. If only he could lie back on the bunk, close his eyes for a few seconds, wait for Kathryn to wake up...
************************************************
PART SEVEN
It was almost dark when Kathryn initiated the start-up sequence. Taking a backward glance, she saw that Chakotay hadn't woken yet from his deep sleep. Soon after she had woken up, the light already waning, she had gone outside, made sure she was not detected and pulled off most of the branches they had thrown over the shuttle. If anyone in the nearby town of Terni noticed some unusual activity in the sky, she hoped that they would think it was a shooting star, or some other cosmic phenomenon like the aurora borealis.
Her rendezvous with Voyager was to be in exactly one hour; she had set the co-ordinates for the last location of the temporal rift and then she would have only ten seconds to be rescued. Voyager, she trusted, would be waiting on the other side, ready to tractor them.
She had not been on her best behaviour the past eighteen hours, especially this morning. She could still see the way Valentinus's face contorted with pain, with not a cry coming from his lips. She saw again the flashing of the whip, the whistling it made as it flew through the air, the early morning crispness adding to the cruel, eerie sound, the moment of impact as it cut long furrows across his back. The way her own body rocked and shuddered in sympathy with Valentinus. Her eyes, open and tearing...watching...
She had never experienced it before. Not even when her father and Justin died at Tau Ceti Prime, when she was powerless to help them. Not even when she and Admiral Paris had been prisoners of the Cardassians. The Cardassians committed unspeakable atrocities, criminal acts condemned by every rational, principled being imbued with the ethical and moral codes when it came to the preservation of life or the treatment of prisoners. When reading history, facts enter your head; they jump at you from your screen and the real act, even the imagined act, still remains only as something detached. It is easy, she thought, to condemn atrocities from a distance.
Man would, for centuries to come, crucify, stone, behead, burn women at the stake because they owned black cats, maim and torture victims because their race or religion or political affiliation was not acceptable. No civilisation could exempt itself from these heinous practices and so even the glory that was Rome, and in the name of Rome, men like Valentinus fell prey to its capricious rulers.
They had made her watch, forced her eyes open and kept them fixed on the man who never uttered a cry of pain. The sound of rocks thudding against his unresisting body… She had felt them herself, her back aching as if they were whipping her. Then the final act of horror. The executioner had gazed through those narrowed slits at her; his malevolence had been so palpable. Then he had swung the axe high above his head.
Kathryn closed her eyes at the memory, but the images invaded, inveigled themselves with effortless ease to terrorise her mercilessly. Images of stones finding their mark, the cackling of people, others who cried, the soldier who whipped, the flashes, the cracking sounds…
No, she had not been on her best behaviour. Chakotay would disagree, but she had been out of her mind, irrational with rage and powerlessness. She had wanted to beam Valentinus away from there, save his life, spare him the ignominy of the execution. His blood had spattered against her stola…
Her last memory before she fell asleep had been of Chakotay pressing her down on the bunk, his gentleness, the hypospray against her neck before she lost herself in the oblivion of sleep.
Chakotay. Her husband. Joined to her in an everlasting bond by a great man. Chakotay, who cared for her, took charge when she had been blinded by her own fears, her trauma. Chakotay, who seemed to take nothing for himself. When she woke sluggishly from a deep sleep, it took her several moments to adjust; she rubbed her eyes and realised that they didn't feel scratchy. Chakotay had tended to her injury.
He lay fast sleep on the other bunk, a light snore filling the cabin. Still heavy from sleep, she stumbled across, and knelt next to him, resting her head against him, stroking his arm. She listened to his heartbeat, a blessed assurance that he was real, alive. Only once had he stirred, and he had murmured her name in his sleep. Her eyes stung with tears again. She had leaned over and kissed him tenderly, smiling when he expressed a contented sigh.
Valentinus had changed her life. His words, stark, passionate, profound, had echoed incessantly in her mind when they had left his cell after their afternoon session. She had been occupied with her thoughts, wondering how she could make what had started as a germ of an idea, memorable for Chakotay. She…
Sighing deeply, she thought of the many times she had played cat and mouse with him. She knew how Chakotay felt about her. Although he never spoke the words of love and she never told him of her feelings, that was what they both sensed. Only, she had been so afraid, too afraid to face head-on everything that ailed her, everything that proved an emotional impediment to expressing her feelings, everything that bore the label of a Federation insignia. Those things she allowed to loom like the sword of Damocles above her, a sense of extreme urgency to get home and get the job done, regardless of how it destroyed her needs to be just a woman.
Chakotay wanted her to face the woman inside her. He knew it wouldn't be wrong to let Kathryn Janeway, in the body of Captain Janeway, merge with her to create a unique being where Captain Janeway could only be at her best because Kathryn Janeway provided the crucial and critical element that made the captain human.
Chakotay knew she was a unique being.
She had never allowed that uniqueness to shine.
Valentinus – the great Valentine – became the tragic catalyst that would show her the way to Janeway's redemption as a woman, a lover, a wife and Deo volente, a mother one day. She allowed Chakotay to sleep as long as he needed to. He had lost more hours of sleep than she had. He needed the rest.
Kathryn smiled tenderly as the shuttle lifted off and took to the skies.
She would have many memories of their out-of-time stay on Earth and perhaps one of the most enduring would be the way he'd looked when he entered the cell of Valentinus as the realisation dawned that he was going to marry her.
Kathryn felt the sadness encroaching as the Cochrane circled above Earth. When would they ever see Earth again?
**
She gave a sigh of relief as the Cochrane docked in Voyager's shuttle bay. Chakotay had just woken and groaned as he rose from the bunk.
"Bridge to Captain Janeway. Are you alright?"
It was good to hear Tuvok's voice again. There had been whoops of joy from the Paris contingent the moment the shuttle was tractored and pulled through the rift by Voyager.
"We are safe, Mr Tuvok. Are the celebrations over?" she asked. Chakotay seated himself next to her and she leaned over to hug him. He felt warm, strong, supportive. Her mouth formed into a silent 'thank you'. He smiled, his eyes creasing, the dimples so achingly familiar that her heart pounded. They had yet to consummate their union. They were still dressed in their Roman attire.
"The crew have refused to continue the celebrations without the command team, Captain. When you are ready, Mr Neelix will start the proceedings. Captain…"
"Yes, Tuvok?"
"Welcome back."
"Uh…Captain?"
"Yes, Tom?"
"Where did you two find yourself?"
"On Earth."
The next few moments they heard several voices
"There, what did I tell you?"
"Yes, but maybe they were in the future."
"No, I think it's the past."
"Way in the past. Like more than two thousand years in the past."
"I bet they met some interesting people."
"If they brought souvenirs, would that qualify as artefacts?"
"Nonsense. What could they have done in thirty six hours?"
They had seen, heard and lived enough in the year 269 for thirty six hours. When she thought they'd heard enough, Kathryn simply stopped it with, "Thank you. Janeway out."
Chakotay had been quiet during the exchange. More like very, very patient, she thought as she flung herself into his arms, hugging him fiercely. His hands were in her hair, trembling fingers tracing paths over her cheeks, caressing her lips with infinite tenderness. He breathed; she breathed; together their mingling breaths told of their desperate longing, their new life together as wife and husband. They wept - old tears, new tears, tears for Valentinus, for his mother and father, brother and young sister; tears for Venantius, for Julia, his daughter. Tears for a life lost. Chakotay touched her deeply and she revelled in feeling his lips on her lips, on her cheeks, her crying eyes, the silent tears being wiped away.
When they slaked their thirst, albeit for a brief period, he held her away from him, though not letting her go.
"Thank you, Kathryn, for your courage."
"Valentinus showed me the way. My way was a way of loneliness. His way is a way of shared joy, pain, laughter, tears… Forgive me…"
He smiled his old inimitable dimpled smile and her heart flipped madly.
"I am blessed, my Kathryn. I am blessed. There is nothing to forgive. We were joined in marriage by a very noble man who believed in us. We have something to tell our crew…"
"Then we'd better get to our – "
"Your quarters will be fine as our home, Kathryn. Now, let's transport there, shall we?"
****
There had been no time for intimacies yet. Now that she had committed herself to him, finally let go of her reserve and all boundaries that kept her from being the woman she needed to be on Voyager, he could wait a little longer to make her his forever, to consummate their union.
He watched her. She had managed to still her terror of what had happened in the town of Terni. She smiled at him as she left the bathroom for the bedroom where she dried her hair, swept it up again and fixed the hairpiece to it. They had decided to wear their Roman garments for the Valentine's Day celebration, announcing their union in this most unique way.
"But I don't think I could stand wearing the Roman feminine undergarments, Chakotay. I must say, they were very cumbersome."
"Same here. I couldn't get out of mine soon enough. Funny how we've always looked at pictures and never thought about what undergarments were like for the ancient peoples of Rome and Greece."
"You think the crew will like this?" she asked as she stood before him, turning round to show off her clothes.
He gave a little sigh as he reached to caress her cheek, thrilling to the new sensations of being free to touch her.
"Of course they'll like it. Look at you – beautiful with your hair swept up in those curls, the rows of pearls." He kissed the tip of her nose. "You really look very beautiful as a Roman, Lady Aurelia."
Kathryn basked in his praise. Her eyes shone as looked up at him. "And you, Silas of Macedonia, I think you would have given tribune Lucius Tullius Severinus a run for his money on a chariot. I rather fancy you dressing up as a Roman soldier. I'd have infinite pleasure removing your breastplate…"
His heart overflowed with love for her. She looked as he had always dreamed of seeing her – without strain, the tension seeping away, leaving her face relaxed. It was as if the wedding ceremony had provided a sudden trigger to release the full power of her femininity and Kathryn rejoiced in showing it.
"Well, it's as Lady Aurelia and Silas of Macedonia that we'll be greeting the crew. Shall we go?" he asked, holding his arm for her in an exaggerated sweep. Kathryn hooked her arm through his.
"Got your gift?" she asked.
"Aye. Right here," he replied holding a small package in the other hand.
They left their quarters and made their way down the corridor to the first turbolift.
************************************************
They entered the observation lounge. A gasp went up. To Chakotay it seemed they couldn't make up their minds whether it was the Roman dress of their command team that gave them a shock, or the fact that Kathryn clung very comfortably to him. He glanced at her. She smiled up at him, her eyes shining, the shadows of Terni gone for the moment. She was breathtakingly beautiful, with the added necklace and matching earrings she wore. He couldn't tear his gaze away from her, she so mesmerised him. The seconds ticked away slowly, as if Kathryn's movement, the turn of her head causing the curls to bounce deliciously elongated time to throw him into a daze. He closed his eyes, then opened them again.
"So, are you going to kiss her, Commander?" Tom Paris's voice broke the spell. Flushing a little, he tore his gaze away from Kathryn and faced the crew.
In their Roman dress, they stood out among the crowd who were all in uniform. He looked at their eager faces, all of them wanting to know what they'd experienced on Earth. Tom Paris rolled his eyes. Harry looked embarrassed. Ayala appeared to have stopped breathing. Naomi had her hands clasped to her bosom, giving an exaggerated sigh of pleasure. Seven of Nine smiled and nodded. Tuvok. Tuvok was just Tuvok.
If they meant to make an entrance, they certainly had, dressed the way they were.
"So Commander, Captain Janeway, are you going to stand there and keep us in suspense all evening?" Tom Paris, ever the brazen helmsman, asked.
And so he cleared his throat, glanced one last time quickly at Kathryn who nodded approvingly. They had agreed that he would speak first.
"When in Rome," he started, "we dressed as the Romans did." The words drew laughs form the crew. "We were thrust two thousand one hundred and nine years into the past - the year 269 AD. We landed..." He gave a little cough." I wasn't piloting, Paris! We landed safely near a town we learnt soon after, was called Terni. If you ask why we didn't just orbit round Earth for thirty six hours then I don't need to remind you that we are explorers and that my companion here," looking down at Kathryn, eliciting some delighted chuckles from the crew, "possesses an insatiable curiosity to explore.
"And so we did. We assumed names and nationalities to suit the period. I became Silas of Macedonia and the captain became Aurelia. The first person we met, not discounting a Roman tribune and his lady riding past in his chariot and almost running us down, was a young girl who introduced herself to us as Julia, daughter of Venantius. Venantius was a former general in the Roman army who settled in the town and did duty as the chief jailer. They thought my tattoo was a sign of religious affiliation or a tribal ritual, like some of the conquered races of North Africa. They didn't think it strange so I was able to move about without having to conceal it. Through this family - the father Venantius, mother Claudia, daughter Julia and the boy Diocles - we were introduced to a most remarkable young man."
Chakotay paused, catching his breath. The crew were absolutely quiet. Not even Tom interjected this time like he usually did. But he was beginning to feel the tension rise in him, seeing flashes of a man whipped and stoned, beheaded... Kathryn's hand was beginning to become clammy in his, and she tightened her grip.
"We were there on the thirteenth of February, before the eve of the Festival of Lupercalia, a pagan festival," he said heavily, letting his words hang in the air. Some crew were already nodding as they realised what he was going to say next. "We were taken to meet Valentinus - you know him as Valentine or Saint Valentine." He closed his eyes, choked back a sob. He was quiet so long that Kathryn loosened her grip on his hand and continued.
" We will prepare a full report which the crew may have access to, as well as our own official ship's logs for the Federation. Right now, we can simply give you images and frankly, we have a celebration which I know is one of joy and fun, so we won't keep you long..." After a short pause, she continued. "Valentinus was sentenced to death the following morning - this morning, actually - for going against the decree of Emperor Claudius II. Emperor Claudius prohibited Roman soldiers from marrying or becoming engaged. Valentinus continued to marry soldiers.
"He spoke with us that afternoon on many topics, primarily on everlasting love. He spoke about grasping life with both hands, that the life we have is a single opportunity to live as we rarely get any second chances; therefore we should seize upon it. Whatever things we are afraid of that impede living that life to its fullest and most meaningful, we should let go of them and trust those who love us, for their strength and support and faith. For once a day of that life in which we have let our fear rule us has passed, we'll never get that day back again. We - I have put things off...things I regret..."
This time it was Kathryn who was quiet, unable to continue.
"Let's just say that I was called to the jail late that night," Chakotay told them, smiling a little. "There stood Captain Janeway, dressed as she is now, waiting for me, with Valentinus in attendance as well as the family of Venantius. We have been given the rarest of gifts...of being joined in marriage by a noble man, a man who believed in the sanctity and power of love, that it is a gift given us by a higher power, one never to be turned away. Fear took a back seat. Captain Janeway is my wife. I am her husband... We remained with Valentinus through the night, keeping a vigil while he was in prayer, in meditation. In the morning, at the first crow of the cock, Valentinus of Terni was led to the town square where he was executed..."
It was quiet in the observation lounge. Chakotay's words found their way into the hearts of the crew. It was enough that they knew Valentine had died in the name of love. Then he heard a sob; it sounded like Naomi Wildman. He expelled a deep sigh, pulled Kathryn closer to him. She felt warm and soft. A thrill coursed through him as she placed her arm round his waist.
"I believe we have a celebration," he told them. "We have gifts to exchange."
For the next few minutes it was pandemonium as Neelix handed out the gifts and the crew gave whoops of delight or quiet nods of appreciation. Unlike the previous occasion they had decided this year that each member knew who had presented him or her with a token.
"Doctor! Really? You will sing, just for me?" asked Marla Gilmore.
"Thank you, B'Elanna," said Seven of Nine, who stood with a music box in her hand. "I shall treasure it..."
"You're welcome," B'Elanna said, her mouth curving into an amused smile.
"A new chef's hat!"
Susan Nicoletti faced Angelo Tassoni. "Thank you, Angelo. This is a very beautiful poem you have written for me."
Angelo's cheeks flamed beetroot red. He was still shy, shyer than Noah Lessing, Chakotay had always thought.
"I - uh... I was lucky to draw your name."
"My birthday is coming up soon," she told him.
"Really?" Angelo Tassoni looked hooked.
Icheb, proud and erect, stood before Tom Paris. If he had tears, he would shed them. But he was Borg, and Borg don't cry. In his hands he held his gift. His eyes were on the giver.
"Well, are you going to stand there and say nothing, Icheb?" Tom asked.
Icheb seemed to be rendered mute. His attractive mouth moved, but no sound issued from his lips. Tom gave an impatient cluck.
"Thank you. It is beautiful. Everyone crewman on the vessel has something from a previous century, a memory of the past. I...have nothing - " Icheb said at length, looking quite flustered but very proud.
"No, you had nothing, Icheb. Now you have something too. I heard you once say that Earth will be your home once we get there, but you would have liked something from its history... Let Admiral Lord Nelson's Victory be the best thing."
Tom's clear blue eyes were kind. Icheb nodded again, then walked away quickly, trying to find Naomi Wildman to whom he could show a nineteenth century 100-gun sailing vessel.
Chakotay had been standing a little away from Icheb and Tom, and his heart swelled with pride. They were the crew of Voyager, brought together for a special occasion by a man long gone in history.
They had been moving amongst the crew, exchanging words, greetings, smiling, happy to be back. They spotted Marla and Magnus, who were holding hands.
"Thank you, Marla. I shall treasure your gift," Kathryn said.
Chakotay smirked. "I think we should tell them something about the Romans, Kathryn."
"Captain?"
"When you hold hands, it's a public show of your intent to marry..." Kathryn said.
They broke apart instantly.
"Captain!"
They laughed, moving towards the exit. They needed to get to their quarters...
"Chakotay?"
"Yes?"
"You never received a gift..."
"It doesn't matter, Kathryn. I got you, given me by the great Valentine himself. What more could I ask for?"
"Commander."
They both swung round. Noah Lessing stood in front of them.
"What is it, Lessing?"
"Commander, I asked Mr Tuvok if I could be the last to present my gift. Please, could you come with me?" They followed him to where Tuvok was standing, flanked by the senior officers.
"Captain, Commander," Tuvok started once they had everyone's attention again. "It is an added bonus to this congregation that you have returned from your away mission as a married couple. I believe I speak for all of us when I say that this has been a much awaited occurrence. Perhaps you have yourself not seen what the crew has seen for years. Mr Lessing here would like to present you, Commander Chakotay, with his gift.
Kathryn gripped his hand tightly. Her cheeks were flushed. She was happy, happy! Shining eyes met his, a tremulous smile... As if in a daze, he watched Noah open the small package and remove its precious contents, holding them on the palm of his hand with infinite care.
"I have the greatest admiration for you both and this gift is my pledge to you. It has, as Commander Tuvok said, been the wish of the crew to see you together as husband and wife, to make a public affirmation of your love such as you have. If I have been presumptuous in giving you these rings, it was only because it was borne of my hope that one day you would marry this very fine Lady Aurelia, Silas of Macedonia."
Chakotay looked at the rings in some kind of stupor. They were identical, delicately crafted in gold, each one made up of three snakes intertwining until the heads came together to form a crest. Kathryn's ring was much slimmer, naturally. He felt a scratching behind his eyelids, a ridiculous need to bawl his eyes out right there. They had never, for one moment given it any thought when Valentinus married them or when Kathryn spoke her vows. Now the rings lay gleaming on his palm, a hand that trembled from the magnanimity of the gift, of its message. He held out his hand to Kathryn and she took his ring.
He placed her ring on first, sliding the band effortlessly on her finger. He looked deeply into her eyes.
"I love you..." came his impassioned whisper.
Kathryn slipped his ring on his finger. Then she began to chant:
"Quando tu Gaius ego Gaia. Quando tu Gaius ego Gaia. Quando tu Gaius ego Gaia…."
*************************************************
Quando tu Gaius ego Gaia: "Where/when you are Gaius, there/then I am Gaia" or "Where you are my husband, I am your wife."
EPILOGUE
It was the day after the Festival of Lupercalia. Valentinus had been laid to rest. In the town of Terni, there had been much licentiousness during this Festival. Young men engaged in crude acts with young girls. Some of the people of the town shunned this decadent behaviour and cried for the dead priest. A small group of travelers had arrived in the town in search of Venantius, the chief jailer. A kind freedman called Brocchus showed them the way to the former Roman general's home.
They had traveled far, and now they stood in the atrium of the house of Venantius. Gaius Arrius Valentinus of Antioch and his wife, the Lady Flavia, their son Quintus Arrius and daughter Hannah were waited upon by Venantius, Claudia and Julia.
Their son had died, Venantius told them. Executed in public. Their son was a noble Roman who had defied the Emperor's edict and continued to join in marriage Roman soldiers with the women they loved.
"He married only those whose marriages were not arranged," said Claudia, wringing her hands together. "Those who came to him and pledged their love before God."
"Even the night before, he joined in holy matrimony two travelers, Silas of Macedonia and Aurelia. Their love shone like a bright star in the heavens for all to witness," Venantius said.
Gaius Arrius Valentinus nodded. He and his dear Flavia had married for love. It was enough.
"I have buried him in the Roman graveyard. When you have rested, I shall take you there."
"Thank you, General Venantius. The memory of Valentinus must live forever."
"Lord Gaius…"
"Yes, young lady?" he replied, looking at Julia.
"Valentinus wrote a letter before he died. We would have arranged to send it, but your arrival… I have it here," she said, retrieving the scroll where she had held it behind her back.
"Father, may I?" asked Quintus Arrius Valentinus, taking the scroll from Julia and opening it.
"Yes, my son. Please read to us your brother's letter…"
It was immediately clear to both Gaius Arrius and his wife Flavia that their younger son was taken by the beauty and gentility of Julia.
Quintus, his eyes resting on Julia, nodded before he started to read
14 February 2005