A Mixture of Madness, Book II of The Bow of Heaven (58 page)

Hanno’s eyes lit with remembrance. “You are
, master you are! Better be careful not to catch what you throw!” He thought that was very funny. He thought that was very funny for a very long time. I wondered where Livia had left the poppy juice. At last I discovered that Hanno had rummaged around in the waste bin and found the incomplete draft of my forgery from the previous night. I convinced him to exchange it for a fresh piece of crumpled parchment. I would have burned the evidence then and there but for Hanno’s skittishness around open flames. Chanina would be along any moment; I’d ask her to burn it outside.

What I did not know was that while my back was turned
, lost in the concentration of my work, Hanno, having decided the unsullied sphere was not formed into a shape to his liking, had abandoned it and retrieved his original plaything. It was not long afterwards that I heard a faint, familiar and vaguely disquieting sound, like the popping of small insects underfoot. And immediately following that came the sound of parchment dropping to the floor.

“What’s the matter, Hanno, bored already?” I asked. “What are you doing?” He had crawled under my table.
“Come out from there. You know I cannot concentrate with you fidgeting at my feet.”

I heard that snapping sound again and turned to see Lucius Curio standing there,
a dusty brown traveling cloak on his shoulders, a dusty, evil smile on his face. He was contentedly and meticulously cracking every last one of the slightly knotted knuckles on his long, delicate fingers.

“
Charming room,” he said. “Splendid view.”

“Curio?”

“For pity’s sake, do not ask me why I am here.”

“What?”

“You know very well why, so off you go, I’m certain my lady will be most anxious to have words with you.” Curio tried bending a forefinger, but it was already spent. Disappointment pinched his face, then he brightened. “I believe
dominus
and
domina
said they were going to  spend some private time together—you can understand his surprise at seeing her. And then
dominus
said something about wanting to show lady Tertulla the strange trees in, I believe it’s called the gallery?”

The letter box.
“Hanno, come out from there right this instant,” I said, reaching out for him with a trembling hand. “We have to go.” It was either the urgency or the terror in my voice that convinced him to obey.

“I think I shall enjoy
this very much,” Curio was saying as we lurched past him. He walked slowly down the entrance steps and around the painted columns. His voice followed me down the open doorway. “Yes, this will do nicely.”

We careened into the gallery
and barely kept our footing. Hanno’s silence as we righted ourselves was more frightening than any protest. He clung to me, and I to him, but even from the far end of the long room I could tell it was empty. Completely empty. The box was gone.

When
he and I limped back to our unoccupied quarters, Chanina was just coming into the room to clean. She greeted me pleasantly, but all I could do was nod. The waste bin was empty, and one other item on the floor caught my attention, caught it by my throat and pressed till my breath wheezed, a tiny bellows in the back of my throat.

“Master, what’s wrong?” Hanno
asked, finally voicing his fear. He squeezed my hand with his glove mechanism. “Master!”

“
Hanno, can you find Arba in the stables and spend some time helping him?”

“Yes I can but I don’t want to leave you.
”

For
the boy’s sake, I summoned the remembrance of that man who used to be Alexandros, made him turn to Hanno and speak in soothing tones. “Thank you for worrying about me, but I am going to be fine, have no fear. Look, the sun is shining! Go have adventures today, don’t stay here, stuck in this dreary old palace with piles of boring old documents.” Hanno started to protest, but I raised a finger. “Ah, you haven’t said good morning to Bustan, have you? I know he would be delighted to feel your brush on his mane.” Hanno hesitated; he was not the fool I thought him to be when first we met. He understood I needed to be alone. But there was a price to pay. As compensation, he insisted on an extra-long, extra-hard hug. I didn’t mind it at all. No, not at all.

After he had limped away
, I turned back into the room. Leaning against a column for support, for some moments I stared at the solitary piece of crumpled parchment that had never felt the kiss of ink or the light scratch of a pen, and wondered how this day would end.

•••

Dominus
was in the Great Hall receiving the Aramean princes when lady Tertulla summoned me. I was led to a curving balcony on the western side of the Regia that looked out across a sloping patchwork valley of farms. In the distance, the forests of the Amanos Mountains were dressing in their fall colors. On the other side of the long arm of those peaks stretched the great Middle Sea, and home.

Tertulla
was alone, occupying one of two couches. She motioned for me to sit. I did and studied her. My lady wore her favorite pale blue
peplos
, draped by a sea green
stola
. Her hair was as I remembered it:  short and curled in ringlets. She had not succumbed to the growing fashion of wearing outlandish dyes or wigs. One could not improve upon that starless black, now streaked here and there with comets of silver. She saw me looking at the tiny lines that had grown about her eyes.

“You may lay claim to at least a few of those,” she said.

“I meant no harm, my lady.” My voice was dry and cracked, but there was no refreshment on the small table between us. “But I must tell you—”

“
You have done no harm, Alexander. Whatever happens, know that I shall always be indebted to you. Your letters to me were not acts of betrayal. We know you love us, as we love you. But
dominus
and I made our choice long ago; did you think your writing alone could cause a reversal of heart? I could not dissuade him in Rome; as his wife, the only path left open to me was to encourage him. I knew we were wrong then. I know we are wrong now. And when it is over, I will live the rest of my days knowing the terrible mistake we made.”
Domina
reached across to take my hand, then released it. “Sweet Alexander, I did not come to Antioch to change my husband’s mind.”

“My lady?”

“
Dominus
is as you described him. Even the mighty Crassus cannot conduct three wars at once:  against the Parthians, his age and his memories. My poor love is tired. Why should his wife not be near? There is nothing on the Palatine for me now; the Regia is as good a home and better. If I must wait for Marcus, I would be in a place where he can find me if he needs me. You know me, Alexander: I am a stubborn woman. I would travel twice as far to steal even a few more days with my husband.”

“
I thought I could convince you to write him to bring him home. I had no thought that you yourself would make the journey. I have ruined everything.”

“Don’t talk nonsense. I will keep your secret.”

I woke up, suddenly realizing that time had collapsed into something squat and hard and finite. There was little of it left to say what I must. “Listen to me,
domina
. They will come for me soon. I forged a letter in your hand.”

“What?!”

“Please! I assumed you would remain in Rome. I thought to convince
dominus
in your voice that he should call off this war and return to the city and the family that needed him more than the deserts of the East.”

Tertulla considered.
“The letter sounds innocent enough, though I would have had a lesser man flogged.”

I shook my head. “
Domina
, I will not be flogged. You must not protect me. You must deny any knowledge of—”

“
Why should I not help you? Were you not trying to save my husband?”

“
Domina
, I tell you, you must not defend me.”

“I will not betray you. I will claim the letter as my own.”

“You cannot. There was a copy. Curio has taken it from my quarters, here in the Regia. As soon as he brings it to
dominus
, I am undone.”

Domina
stood. “I will see to this!”

The ring of marching footsteps approached, and two legionaries appeared at the entrance to the balcony. One of them looked vaguely familiar, but his name escapes me. You would think I would remember it, since he spoke the words that ended my thirty-
three years of bondage. “Forgive me, mistress. Alexander, slave of Marcus Crassus, you are under arrest. Come with us.”

As I stood to accompany the g
uards, lady Tertulla said, “Do not lose faith. I will speak with
dominus
.”

“
Domina
, tell Livia what has happened. I beg of you, keep her and Hanno safe. And if you love us, free our son.”

The soldiers each grabbed an arm and marched me off.

Domina
then said something I wish she had kept to herself. “I have him here. Felix is in Antioch.”

Chapter XXXV

54  BCE   -   Fall, Antioch

Year of the consulship of

Lucius Domitius Ahenobarbus and Appius Claudius Pulcher

Curio was no fool. Had he taken
the balled up forgery to
dominus
, he’d have run the risk that the matter might be handled discretely and quietly by the
familia
. No one likes a scandal. Well, no one likes a scandal without lurid details and horrifying public consequences, and that was just the kind of exhibition Lucius Curio had in mind. It must be said that once having decided to discredit me and insure his place in the house of Crassus, Curio set about it with a zeal and dedication I would otherwise have found enviable in a domestic. He had not only brought the letter to Publius Crassus instead of
dominus
, but had suggested to him the venue for its public airing which would have the most salient political impact.

The Great Hall of the Regia was built to impress.
It was a rectangular space the size of a small forum, supported by a double row of gilt columns painted lapis blue that divided its length into thirds. The floor and walls were of a green marble one could easily mistake for semi-precious malachite. All along the top of every wall, seven feet above each flickering wall sconce and eighteen feet above the cowed visitor’s shoes, deep rectangular cuts two feet high and four feet long let in light and air. Between the sconces hung giant murals of larger-than-life immortals performing heroic deeds to add to one’s feeling of intimidation. To walk awestruck from the entrance to the dais required an athletic one hundred paces, all the while under the scrutiny of men who, from their elevated perspective, you might rightly assume were your betters.

The dais itself was thirty feet wide, three steps above the
common fray. There was no throne; Romans had long ago stopped believing in kings, though they never seemed to stop talking about them. As in the senate, however, there was a curule chair, in which Marcus Licinius Crassus sat, soggy yet resplendent in his
toga praetexta
. On either side of him sat his officers and behind them the city magistrates, a group of twenty well-dressed and serious men. For added theatrics or solemnity, take your pick, Crassus had arranged for the seven legionary gold and silver eagles to be temporarily removed from their altars at the garrison to be planted on a raised platform behind the dignitaries, displayed amongst seventy purple standards, their numbers threaded in gold, picked from among the army’s highest ranking centuries.

Just below the dais,
on either side of the center aisle, pillowed benches were reserved for family members and other privileged friends and guests. This is where I would have sat had I not been bracketed by two soldiers awaiting my turn for justice. In my place, absentmindedly at work on his fingers, sitting painfully upright was Lucius, as anxious, apparently, about this moment as I. My lady Tertulla sat on the bench opposite, staring at her son up on the dais. Either he refused to look at her, or it did not occur to him to look her way. The mother was steadfast; it was the man turned soldier who had changed.

The morning hours had been reserved for a reception of visiting dignitaries, sheikhs, tax collectors, and other local luminaries.
The boredom of forced smiles, a heavy toga and a too short break for the midday meal had been enough to sour Crassus' mood and shrivel his temper. Now, more than half of those same distinguished gentlemen were lined up once again for the afternoon session, during which time the proconsul would begrudgingly hear complaints and settle disputes.

The room was full. Beside the
century
of legionaries placed like lethal ornaments every few paces, the outside aisles formed by the two rows of columns were filled with Antiochenes wanting to catch another glimpse of their new governor, the man who had caused such a stir at the hippodrome. (How surprised would they be to know they were looking in the wrong place.) The center aisle was reserved for supplicants seeking consideration, visiting dignitaries, and others awaiting the impartial justice of the court.