A Mixture of Madness, Book II of The Bow of Heaven (4 page)

BOOK: A Mixture of Madness, Book II of The Bow of Heaven
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•••

That was six years ago. And now the carriages which carried her and the others were pulling up to the gates.
Domina
had allowed a small crowd to assemble in welcome. I stood on the curb, but as the
familia
pressed forward around me, suddenly I turned and pushed my way through the throng, walking briskly back into the house. In my
tablinum
, I could hear the sounds of welcome and celebration coming from the atrium. I stayed where I was.

An hour later she found me, announcing her arrival with the cheerful, maddening whistle that had been her habit ever since she was a child. The tune has always been unrecognizable, but hearing it once again for the first time in such a long time made my back ache and my stomach tighten. The song stopped as she entered my office. She pulled a chair up to the opposite side of my table and lowered herself into it without every taking her eyes off mine. She was dressed as I remembered her, except the belt cinching her plain linen tunic was made of a double strand of green malachite beads. Her dark red hair
was cut in the Egyptian style—draped in front down either side of her neck to cover her breasts, short bangs hiding half her forehead.

“You look well,” I said. “What’s that on your eyes?” Livia’s eyelids were brushed with a powder the same color as her belt.

“You never wrote.”

“No. You never gave me the chance to talk you out of going. The only thi
ng I could think to write was, ‘come home.’”

“That would have been something.”

I stared at her, sure that my heart was beating hard enough to make my tunic visibly pulse with its rhythm. “So, you’re a doctor now?” She nodded. “Most physicians I know don’t smell as…fresh.”

“It’s a perfume made from cardamom and myrrh. Good for keeping the flies away. Is that grey in your hair?”

“A little. Still mostly blond, but Crassus manages to whiten a strand or two each week. Doesn’t matter—I’ll be bald in a year or two. I understand Baltus did not return.”

She shook her head. “Went for a swim in the Nile and never came back.”

“You don’t look as if his passing was mourned.” Livia shook her head while pursing her lips, a mischievous expression. “I never knew him well, but thought him competent. Well, that’s a shame, then.”

“Pity.”

We looked at each other. “He did love a good soaking, though,” I tried.

“Scrubbed himself pink, he would.”

“Not his color now, I should think.”

“Greenish brown, I’d guess. A better match for his eyes, if he kept them.”

“I’d rather not imagine.”

“Bloated before he went in,” she persisted. “More so now.”

“Come now. A learned man. He’ll be missed, surely.”

“Not by me,” she said. I cocked an eyebrow. “Nothing was worth studying unless he discovered it first.”

“Trying his hand at ichthyology now, is he?”

“He guessed I was about to develop an interest.”

“And took the plunge to beat you to it.”

“Now th
e fish are trying his … hand.”

“You
are
delightful, aren’t you.”

Livia stretched, long and luxuriously. “It feels good to be back in the
familia
.”

“You’ve been away too long. The fault is mine and I feel awful.”

“No you don’t.”

“No, I don’t.”
Bless you, Baltus. May the gods forgive us. Thank you for putting us at our ease. Tonight I’ll make an offering in your honor.
“Wine?” I said, reaching for the
amphora
.

“Can’t.
Dominus
told me to get you an inventory of what I’d need for the clinic by supper.”

“Did he now? Who appointed you the new
medicus
? You didn’t even know you wanted to apprentice the day before you left.”


Dominus
promised it to me. Besides, I’m smarter than any of the rest.”

“I see. Well, I suppose then, you’d better pick your staff and let me know who needs to be reassigned.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Don’t start that again.”

She laid a list on the table between us. I smirked. “Confident as ever, I see. Just like your mother.”
Curse me for a fool. Oh, to have a brain that operates faster than my mouth.

“As ever,” Livia said, her lively tone gone serious. “How goes it here? Everyone seemed a little, I don’t know, tense.”

“It’s not good,” I said, lowering my voice, even though I knew Crassus was not in his
tablinum
, adjacent to mine. “I’ll tell you later. You must be tired.”

“Don’t tell me what I must be,” she said with a curl of her lip.

“Gods, it’s good to have you home,” I said before I could stop myself.

Livia stood, and I rose with her, deciding not to upend the table between us so I could crush her in my arms. I probably couldn’t have lifted it anyway, at least not without her help.

Chapter II

56 BCE   Fall, Rome

Year of the consulship of

Cn. Cornelius Lentulus Marcellinus and L. Marcius Philippus

 

 

Our home was not the same after Luca. Rumors of what had happened there spread like weeds. It was my task to uproot and dispose of them wherever I found them, but for every one culled, three more would sprout. How could it be otherwise, for it is one of the rare joys peculiar to those who serve to conjure outlandish stories regarding their masters. If our lives are destined to be plain, at least we may pilfer a little color, however impermanent, by rubbing up against our betters.

In the slaves’ quarters it was whispered that Pompeius
Magnus, our master’s lifelong rival, had tried to poison
dominus
.
Dominus
had slept with a dining room slave.
Domina
had found a lover in the stables. Caesar had broken with
dominus
. Crassus had slept with Caesar. Each tale was more preposterous than the last. Yet every now and then I would be forced to laughingly dismiss a rumor that was not gossip at all, but a stab that cut sickening close to the truth. Caesar had had, or was still having an affair with my lady.
Dominus
was either impotent, ignorant, or plotting his revenge.

Here is the truth.
At Luca, at a gathering of vultures dressed as senators come to pick and tear at the choicest bits of Rome, Julius Caesar raped my lady Tertulla. No good can be born from the coupling of lasciviousness and political ambition, and Caesar fairly bubbled with both. Caesar had called the meeting at Luca because the deteriorating situation in Rome threatened his own political future. Crassus and Pompeius had to stand for
consul
for a second time to protect the interests of all three, but Caesar’s most of all.

Crassus saw no need to put himself through the frustration of another term with Pompeius. He needed neither the prestige nor the aggravation. When Caesar saw Crassus’ commitment wavering, he knew his campaign in Gaul and his plans for dominion over Britannia and Germania were in jeopardy. My lord Crassus had confided to Caesar that he always harkened to the advice of his wife. Assaulting her was his craven insurance that, as always, Caesar would get what he wanted. If she did not convince her husband to take the consulship and thus, with his
tremendous influence, push through the law that would extend Caesar's command another five years, Caesar would make public her "transgression." One more scandal would hardly stain his own reputation:  he was already known as a defiler of both men and women. But the house of Crassus was one of the most dignified and respected in Rome. If Tertulla failed to convince her husband to seek the consulship, Caesar would see them in disgrace, destroy her marriage and topple her husband's life's work.

What the villain did not know was that there was a witness to his crime. Crassus himself, exhausted and full of too much wine, came upon them in the dark. To his eternal shame, my master did not act, even when Tertulla’s stricken gaze met his own. Fearing for her husband’s life, Tertulla begged him to withdraw with a silent plea. Caesar would surely have been the victor in a physical contest with the much older man. Unseen, Crassus slipped back into the shadows, rage and shame growing with each step. Their marriage almost ended the next day, but Tertulla convinced him that what he had witnessed was not infidelity, but rape. From that day forward, Marcus Crassus was filled with but one thought:  to avenge himself upon Gaius Julius Caesar. 

•••

We went about our business quickly, heads bowed, avoiding eye contact, speaking little, as if a stiff, winter wind blew through the halls. One evening, not many weeks after their return, as
dominus
and
domina
were taking their couches in the dining room, Eirene, who had been with us since the old days, set a bowl of pomegranates down too quickly, dislodging two pieces of fruit. They rolled off the table and one overripe globe burst upon the floor. Tertulla blinked, keeping her eyes shut an instant longer than was natural. Everyone froze, as if the dear serving woman had shattered one of the family death masks. My new assistant, Lucius Curio, shouted Eirene’s name just as you might bellow at a dog who had defecated on the masters’ bed. I thought the poor woman’s feet had left the ground, she started so.

Before Eirene could get an apology from her quivering lips or her knees to the floor to begin cleaning
, Crassus had reached down and just calm as you please, scooped up some of the pulpy mess. He leaned over his couch and smeared a dripping handful of fruit across his mouth. Looking like he’d taken a sword thrust through the mouth, he chewed thoughtfully. We were all mesmerized by this performance, including my lady. At last, I gestured to a dining room attendant who handed
dominus
a towel. Wiping his face and hands slowly and deliberately, Crassus said, “That was perfect, Eirene. See if you can find me another as ripe as this and I shall ravish it in the more traditional manner.” Most of the
familia
thought the master’s humor mollifying, but I winced at his choice of words. A moment later Tertulla rose, and crying quietly, fled the
triclinium
. Crassus cursed softly and quickly followed, leaving us to clear and preserve the untouched platters in brittle silence.

I asked Curio to walk with me and found an empty room lit by a single lamp. “Lucius,” I said, “how are you settling in?”

“My quarters are exceedingly adequate,” Curio sniffed, examining his perfectly manicured nails. “Does that amuse you?” he asked, depressing an errant cuticle on his thumb with the nail of a forefinger.

“No, not at all. I smile only because you remind me of myself when I first came to this house.”

“Why is that, Alexandros?” he asked, studying his hands, “What affectation of personality do you find we have in common?”

“Honestly, the one that comes to mind at the moment is insubordination. Lucius, I am obligated to give you a word of kind advice.”

“Then I must be obligated to give heed.”

“Please begin to do so,” I said in as even a tone as I could manage, “by looking at me when I am addressing you.” Lucius Calpurnius Curio raised his gaze and smiled benignly at me. His eyes, grey or pale blue depending on how the light hit them, were now steely and devoid of color.
The bridge of his nose was broad, and I found my focus flicking back and forth between his own unmoving stare.
In an instant I felt that I was the one being scrutinized and deconstructed, like a heap of Lucretius’ elemental ‘atoms.’ I cleared my throat and pressed on. “I am aware that when you served Lucius Calpurnius Piso our positions were of equal rank. I am sensitive to the difficulty this must pose for you now, working in a much greater house.”

Without taking his eyes off mine, and with a look that suggested complete attention to my every syllable, as I spoke, Curio braced the lowest joint of the middle finger of his left hand between the thumb and forefinger of his right; with a smooth, round motion he pulled up upon it until there was an audible crack. He kept at this with his other fingers until I finally had to ask him to stop.

“Lucius, I am unaware of any offence done to you as a result of my behavior, but if any such blunder exists, I humbly apologize.” Curio’s open face, slightly raised eyebrows and half smile was the perfect engineering of flesh and bone to make me feel as foolish as possible for even suggesting such a thing. “All right, we’ve both work to do. Let’s get down to it, shall we?” I said. “Until I give you leave to do otherwise, when we are both present among the staff, it is not your place to chastise any servant not directly under your purview. I am speaking of your treatment of Eirene. And when I am not present, Lucius, learn from
dominus
. Be gentle, be lenient, be understanding. Our master did not cultivate the largest, most skilled, educated army of servants in Rome by being feared. The Palatine estate may be served by hundreds, but we are all still
familia
. I want you to be a part of it. Is that understood?

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