Camille was ready, tied to the post. The ordeal would begin with the scourging of the victim. Camille got ready for the flogging, she tensed her legs, she lowered her head and closed her eyes, she was struggling to stay on top of the small support under her feet. I could see she was having a hard time keeping both feet on the support, her legs were slightly bent.

I raised the whip and lashed her across her back.

Leticia's servant, under the pain of torture, finally 'confessed' that her mistress had instructed her to poison her husband. To make the poor woman confess they had almost broken her limbs on the rack and were pouring hot oil over her bleeding chest. With the woman's confession, they went to Leticia's husband funeral and in front of everyone took her away.

The trial was short, the officers who headed the interrogation of the servant testified to her confession. The reason they brought fourth was Leticia's ambition. She wanted to take his fortune, which, along with her own would make her a truly wealthy and powerful woman in the Empire, powerful enough to influence the election of the successor to Ceasar.

Leticia proclaimed her innocence and dared to accuse those judging her of being the real killers. They wanted her husband out of the way for their nefarious plans and they wanted her out of the way as well.

The young senator had told Leticia enough about them for her to know what they were up to.

It was up to me to understand her motives and decision. She had made up her mind, she was certain of what she wanted. I lashed her in silence for a while, the only sounds were of the whip hitting her skin, our breathing, and an occasional moan from her.

She was still playing the dignified young wife, Leticia.

Leticia was condemned by the tribunal to be crucified as a common criminal, she was stripped of her title, her garments, her crown and her possessions. She was led in chains out of the chambers, where her trial had taken place, and to a dungeon, to await her execution.

They had not touched her during the night. Her guards were respectful of her, and, somehow, were not convinced of her guilt. She was fed and given a minimum of comfort. But in the morning, they had to fulfill their orders and took her out of her cell, past the corridors of the dungeons and out to the light of the new day.

Her accusers were waiting for her and ordered that she be taken to the hill. There weren't too many people following the entourage since it was not known to everyone. It was going to be a discreet crucifixion, the populace would find out later on what had happened and would be able to see her hang for three or four days.

"Don't kiss me know.", she said. "You are torturing me...you are not my lover now...you are not Leticia's husband, he's dead."

I did not respond, not even "I'm sorry". I was feeling her skin on my lips and there was something sad about that feeling.  A longing, as if she was not there and the feeling in my lips was only a memory. I raised the whip, I placed myself in the time of Leticia, it was not Camille under the whip, it was Leticia, I was not her lover, I was her torturer and there was nothing personal, it was only a job I had to do.