Petronia pushed her way through the morning crowds, trying not to drop the heavy load of stuffed dates that she had just picked up from the grocer. They had been specially prepared for a party her mistress was giving. Even though the banquet wasn’t to take place for two days, the whole household had been in an uproar all week.
The kitchen slaves had been furiously preparing the exotic menu, and it seemed as though her mistress had summoned every musician and dancer between Naples and Pompeii in the search for the perfect after-dinner entertainment. She had been fussing over her wardrobe for days, and had even ordered an expensive new necklace to be made by Alessandro, the town’s finest gem-cutter.
Petronia stumbled over a paving stone. She was used to carrying heavy loads, but the basket was too full, and the glistening dates kept threatening to topple onto the street. She knew that the cook would probably count each one, and that it would mean another beating if any were missing.
Blowing a strand of hair out of her eyes, Petronia stopped and put the basket down. Leaning against a doorway, she held her hair off her perspiring neck.
All around her, the streets of Herculaneum were full. Many tourists had come down from Rome and Naples for the Festival of the Divine Augustus. Even though the popular Emperor Augustus had died long ago, the entire Empire celebrated his memory every year. All week there had been special sports events in the palaestra and pantomimes in the theater, to say nothing of endless feasting and drinking.
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