I Appeal To Caesar!

Cut into the solid rock bowels of the Capitoline Hill, the Mamertine has one way in and one way out: through a small opening at the top that is under constant military surveillance. The darkness inside the Prison is absolute. Indeed the forbiddance of a torch or an oil lamp is the ultimate and final punishment of prisoners. It wrings the last bit of hope and life from even the strongest of men. Total, complete, continuous darkness is the final and most heinous of all punishments. Through that small round opening in the ceiling, prisoners are lowered on a twelve-foot rope ladder, then chained to heavy cement blocks. The place is conceived both for maximum security and to rob men of their last hope. Scraps of food thrown in are not fit for consumption, although it helps keep the restless rats alive. The mental agony, futility, and despair change men into raving maniacs. Rufus, the Commander-Centurion, knows this hideous place well, but he suddenly sees it with a disgust so deep it sickens him. He remains at the opening on top while several of his men and Justus, lower the ailing prisoner into the dark depths.

The deed is done and the soldiers clamber out as fast as

men can move.

“Sir,” Justus tells his Commander, “the prisoner is

secured.”

Rufus speaks loudly into the hole, “I will be back soon, Paul.” His words catch in his throat; the career soldier of many battles gags and almost throws up.