Saturnalia

Preface

Preface

An ancient papyrus has come to me by means I cannot disclose. Suffice it to say that, upon my translation of this ancient tale, sleep has eluded me, and every movement in the shadows reminds me of the horrors set down upon that brittle reed paper.

The man you shall read about in these pages could be any person known to you or me, so long as he had a heart of stone and merited the wrath of Heaven and Hell.

It is undoubtedly safe to assume that most of you who come across this book are familiar with that long-standing classic, A Christmas Carol, by Mr. Charles Dickens.

Indeed, his tale has not only entertained many who make merry at Christmastime, but also shaped the ways in which people celebrate it. Upon hearing the title of that story, one immediately scents roast meats and fresh, steaming breads, or tastes the sweetest of nectars in one’s throat, or smacks one’s lips at the sight of delicacies piled high upon candlelit tables.

Or perhaps you instead have an inkling of dread at the memory of three spirits, those sent to haunt the wicked Ebenezer Scrooge? And too right! It is a tale of terror and redemption that brings about the true, forgive me…spirit…of Christmas.

Now, hold fast, dear reader, while I tell you something you likely do not know.

There is another tale, a much more ancient tale of wickedness and horror that would chill the very marrow of your bones were you brave enough to read it.

It is a tale of ancient Rome and of a man who lived there centuries ago, if ‘living’ you could call it.

This man’s name was Catus Pompilius, and never a more unfeeling, unfaithful man has walked the earth before or since the time in which this tale unfolds.

If you are resolved to hear this tale of dread, of shades and furies, and of gods, then do read on by the glow of a bright light, for it will guide you in the darkness into which you are about to throw yourself.

We go back now to the year A.D. 203 in the city of imperial Rome, and the festival of Saturnalia, when most citizens’ spirits were high and their cups were overflowing with kindness…