It was early spring and I was visiting for a few weeks in Liguria, just past Luna, mostly to attend the wedding of my first cousin when I first came upon Vitus. As Sacerdos Veneris Genetricis I was asked to perform rituals for the benefit of the bride and groom in addition to being family and guest. Each morning, just before dawn, I walked through the great fragile webs of dew that draped upon the very air itself and arrived at the shore in time to see phantasmal swirls dancing across the waves.
Drawing my wool cloak tight to my body and gazing out at the sea I thought I could live here forever.
Surrounded by this wonderfully enigmatic landscape I performed my morning rituals to the Lars and Venus at the altar of the family deity of Venus Genetrix which was placed there years before by my famous Uncle himself when he was on campaign in Gallia.
The third, or maybe the fourth morning I had just finished communicating with Venus and as usual I laid a white sheepskin on a rough hewn stone bench and sat in meditation listening to the gentle tide and allowing the scent of the sea to permeate my senses. The first rays of light penetrated my closed eyelids while I awaited sol’s warmth to push away the cold of night and warm my flesh when suddenly the sweet song of birds was over powered by the loud thunder of hooves.
Curiously I was unafraid.
Then everything seemed to change in an instant.
Vitus appeared on the horizon a mass of shining golden muscle thundering towards me in the first rays of sol’s light; he was as a god upon his steed.
Before I knew it, before I could move, before I could utter a sound, I was enveloped in shadow as he halted before me, shielding me from the rising son; I gazed up into eyes the color of the clearest sea, my heart mirroring the sound of the sea pounding the shore behind him. With a welcoming warm smile I was greeted: “Ave Domina.”
Vitus.
In his small but beautiful hidden domicile not far from the shore we supped on honey-cakes and fruit as he hinted at his past life shrouding it in mystery. Regarding his nomen and cognomen I have been sworn to secrecy. A son of impressive Roman lineage and well educated he told me about his military calvary service to Rome and also about his beloved wife and infant boy child murdered while traveling to spend a festival with him at the outpost where he was stationed. Only his eyes reflected the pain and fury he still felt. He did not want to return to Rome, it brought back too many bad memories but as we talked I could tell he missed Her, Rome.
Now, he told me, his only desire is to devote himself to Pomona and the magnificent steeds he bred. He joked that he went from his mother’s womb straight to the back of a steed. He continued to tell me he had traveled beyond the edges, and beyond, of the provincias searching for the finest horseflesh and plied his trade amongst the noblest of Romans through trusted courtiers. He loved his home by the sea and the people who lived in the surrounding area, high on the hilly shore..
Our conversation was quiet pleasant really. Vitus possesses a fine intellect and he is quiet but not too quiet. A stoic who allows him self to relax and enjoy life. But I also discerned he is a man with a deep passion to succeed. Vitus’ breeding techniques are the result of careful horse husbandry the results of which have made him one of the most best kept secrets in the horse trade; he only sells one or two of his prize colts each year.
Vitus prefers it that way.
After our first meeting I watched him train his horses nearly every morning. Not just to enjoy his outstanding horses but also to watch him ride as he encouraged his horses to beat their champion sires’ time.
Such combined power is intoxicating to see. Especially when he is astride a golden horse - his own gold streaked hair resembling the horse’s mane itself.
Their beauty breathtaking, their speed as well.
As part of the training Vitus and one or two of his staff would race two or three horses against each other, often stopping to correct a gait or other problem with the young equine students. This was not always as exciting but did demonstrate his patience as he took time with each young horse. But it was the day he arranged for two teams of horses harnessed in a quadriga to race each other that sealed a decision I had been seriously considering: to enter a chariot in the Ludi Romani.
So I told Vitus of my decision.
And I waited for his.
On the last day before my return to Rome, we, a Priest of Pomona and a Priestess of Venus, performed rituals on the beach attended by several of his horses and his staff. I had about given up on my request but wondered, and enjoyed, the tiny flick of playful fire I descerned in his eyes. Afterwards we enjoyed a ientaculum he prepared for us both which was redolent of the many places he visited. Simple oats imbued with a sprinkling of finely crushed nuts, honey, a spice mixture of cardamom, peppercorns, nutmeg, cloves, cumin, bay leaves, coriander and cinnamon then topped with golden raisins and sweet berries. It was only after he cleared the plates that he sat beside me and accepted my offer for him to guide my chariot, Prima Lux, to victory in the Ludi Romani. There was one condition however, and that was that I accept the gift of four fine golden chestnut steeds. Steeds that will take the Pima Lux on her maiden race,
This was several months ago. Vitus and the team arrived in Rome about a month ago to get the well trained steeds acclimated to the city but I suspect he needed some acclimating himself.
I grow excited as the race draws near.
Atque en perpetuum, avete, atque valete,
Julia
©Aquila
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