A Voice in the Wind (40 page)

“Did Claudius Flaccus make your heart race like it’s racing now?” Caius asked. Julia thought she would faint with the intensity of what she was feeling. “If he were alive now, I’d take you from him, even if it meant killing him,” he rasped. The tone in his voice both thrilled and terrified her.

Julia knew as she looked up into his dark, glowing eyes and felt the fever in her blood that she had to be with him, whatever the cost. “Oh, Caius, I love you. I’ll do anything you want, anything…”

With that, Caius had his answer of how far Julia would go. Of course, he wouldn’t push her now. Time enough for that when she was within his full power and retreat was impossible.

He smiled. Calabah was right about Julia Valerian. This girl was made for him.

18

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Hadassah felt foreboding as Julia’s wedding day approached. From the moment Decimus Valerian agreed to a
coemptio
marriage, Julia seemed more settled and happy. Even as Hadassah wondered why the master suggested bride-purchase rather than the binding
confarreatio
, Julia stood before the gathering of friends and made the traditional statement, “
Ubi tu gaius, ego gaia
.” “Where you are master, I am mistress.” Upon her pronouncement, Caius Polonius Urbanus kissed her and sealed the engagement with an iron ring.

Hadassah could understand why Julia was in love with him. Urbanus was a handsome man with a vital presence and charming manner. Decimus and Phoebe both approved of him. Still, though Hadassah had no facts or foundation for what she felt, she was convinced something dark and sinister was beneath the man’s smooth facade. Whenever Caius looked at her, she felt chilled by that dark, unblinking stare.

She had no one in whom she could confide her feelings. Marcus had gone away on business and wasn’t due home for another month. If he were here, she might gather the courage to talk to him about it. But by the time he returned, it would be too late. The priests had already been consulted and a lucky day set for the wedding. Julia would be married before her brother returned home.

“Surely you want your brother to be at your wedding,” Hadassah said.

“Of course I would like him to be at my wedding,” she said. “But the priests said the second Wednesday of April is our lucky day. Delaying the wedding would defy the gods and risk disaster. Besides, I can’t wait another week, let alone a month. Marcus could be delayed. Or he could change his plans.” She sank down into the warm water of her scented bath and smiled. “Besides, Marcus has seen me get married once already. He was bored at my last wedding. I don’t imagine he would find this one any more interesting.”

Everyone seemed so pleased with the arrangements that

Hadassah began to wonder if she was misjudging Urbanus. He spent hours with Decimus, discussing foreign trade and politics. They seemed to agree about almost everything. As for Phoebe, she was charmed by her future son-in-law. Even the household slaves thought the gods had smiled on Julia by making Urbanus fall in love with her.

Yet, it was as though Hadassah’s soul caught a glimpse of something malevolent and dangerous hidden beneath the polished manners and good looks.

The morning of the wedding, Julia was tense with excitement and determined to look more beautiful than she had ever looked before. Hadassah spent several hours arranging her hair in an elaborate style of curls and braids interwoven with a strand of rare and expensive pearls. Julia’s wedding palus was of the finest white flannel, and encircling her small waist was a woolen girdle fastened with a Herculean knot for good luck. Hadassah slipped the orange shoes on her mistress’s small feet.

“You are very beautiful,” Phoebe said, and her eyes misted with tears of pride. She took her daughter’s hand and sat with her on the bed. “Are you afraid?”

“No, Mother,” she said, amused at the worry she saw in her mother’s eyes. If only she knew. She was eager for Caius, so eager she could hardly bear it. It was not her unwillingness that had kept her from his bed, but Caius’ own sense of honor.

With tender care, Phoebe arranged the orange veil over Julia’s head so that only the left side of her face was revealed. She gave her three copper coins. “One for your husband and two for your household gods,” she said and kissed her daughter’s cheek. “May the gods bless you with children.”

“Oh, Mother,
please
. May the gods wait on that blessing.” Julia laughed happily. “I’m too young to be tied down by children.”

Hadassah stood at the back of the gathering in the temple as Caius and Julia’s hands were joined. She could hear the keening squeal of the terrified pig as it was dragged before the altar. It thrashed violently as its throat was slit, and its blood poured down over the altar as a holy sacrifice for the bride and groom.

Feeling faint with nausea, Hadassah fled outside. Shaking, she sat down upon the high step near the door, where she could hear the marriage contract read, but not see or smell the blood. She put her head on her raised knees and listened to the droning voice of the priest as he read the documents that had more to do with dowry obligations than a lifetime commitment to love one another. Hadassah was saddened. Clenching her hands, she prayed fervently for her mistress.

As the procession of guests passed she rose to follow. Most of those attending the wedding were there purely out of social obligation to Decimus Valerian, their patron. Few who knew Julia had any fondness for her.

The guests accompanied the couple to Caius’ villa on the far side of the Palentine, where his slaves had prepared a feast. Julia rubbed oil on the doorposts and hung up a garland of wool. She presented Caius with one of the copper coins. He gave her an offering of fire and water, thus relinquishing control of his household to his new wife.

Hadassah helped serve at the elaborate feast that followed, marveling at how different the atmosphere was from the celebratory meal of Julia’s first wedding. Caius’ friends made ribald comments, and there was much laughter. Julia was radiant, blushing and laughing when her new husband leaned close and whispered in her ear. Perhaps everything would be all right. Perhaps she was wrong about Urbanus.

Summoned to the kitchen, Hadassah was handed a silver tray of goose liver molded into a horrific beast with exaggerated genitals. Mortified at the obscene offering, she clanged the tray back onto the counter and drew back from it in revulsion. “What’s the matter with you? If you’ve done damage to my work, I’ll have the hide flogged off of you. The master asked expressly for that dish. Now take it out and serve it to your mistress.”

“No!” she said without thinking, horrified at the very idea of offering something so grotesque to Julia. The blow the cook gave her sent her back against the cupboard.

“You take it,” he ordered another who obeyed with alacrity. He turned on her again and she drew back with a gasp of fear, her face throbbing with pain. “Pick up the tray over there and serve it to the guests,
now
.”

Trembling, she went, relieved to see it was only a large tray of a dozen small partridges, browned and glistening with a honey and spice glaze. Her head was still ringing when she entered the large banquet room. Guests laughed and encouraged Julia as Caius dipped his fingers into the dragon and offered it to his bride. Julia laughed gaily and licked it from his fingers. Sickened, Hadassah turned to the guests farthest away from the scene and offered the partridges.

Several men called for the bride and groom to be sent off to bed. Caius caught Julia up in his arms and carried her out of the room.

With Caius and Julia gone, some of the guests began departing. Drusus helped an ashen and tearful Octavia from her couch. She was drunk and scarcely able to walk. Decimus rose from a couch of honor and helped Phoebe to her feet. She beckoned Hadassah.

“You’re returning to the villa with us. Caius told us he’s arranged for servants for Julia already and has released you from your duties to her.” She touched her arm. “You needn’t look distressed, Hadassah. If Julia needs you, you know she will send for you. In the meantime, I’ve duties in mind for you.”

Hadassah settled quickly into her new duties, and she delighted in serving Phoebe. They enjoyed spending hours in the gardens working in the flower beds or in the weaving room with the looms. Hadassah loved working in the garden the most, for she enjoyed the pathways and trellises that were budding with the coming spring. She loved the feel of the soil beneath her hands and the scent of flowers drifting in the fresh air. Birds flitted between the trees and pecked at the seed Phoebe placed on open feeders for them.

Decimus joined them occasionally, sitting on a marble bench and smiling wearily as he talked with Phoebe and watched her work. He seemed somewhat improved, for which Bithia claimed credit. However, he was not regaining his strength. Phoebe felt he was improved because he was under far less strain now that Julia was happily settled with a husband. But he was not cured from whatever ailed him. Phoebe lost faith in the Egyptian girl’s healing arts and stopped summoning her to minister to Decimus. She called upon Hadassah instead.

“Sing to us, Hadassah.”

Hadassah stroked the small harp and sang psalms her father had taught her back in Galilee. Closing her eyes, she could pretend she was back there again, with the smell of the sea and the sounds of the fishermen calling to one another. For a brief time, she could forget all the horror of the things that had happened since that last journey to Jerusalem.

Sometimes she sang lullabies her mother had sung to her and her little sister, Leah. Sweet Leah, how she missed her. At times, when the night was dark and silent, she would think how Leah had closed her eyes and mind to the horrors of this cruel world and gone peacefully to be with God. She would remember the piercingly sweet memories of running free through the lilies of the field with her little sister, laughing at how Leah bounded through the high grasses like a rabbit.

Hadassah found pleasure in serving the Valerians, especially Phoebe, who reminded her somewhat of her own mother as she saw to the needs of the household with simple efficiency. Just as her own mother had spent an hour in devotions to Jesus upon first ajising, Phoebe went into her lararium and worshiped her household gods. She placed fresh wafers on the altars, replenished the incense, and lit the burners to send up a pleasing aroma to her many stone gods. Her prayers were no less sincere, however misplaced her faith.

Marcus entered Rome with a powerful feeling of homecoming. He was well satisfied with the results of his weeks of travel, having made agreements with several of the merchants with whom his father had dealt in the past. Before going home, he went to the baths, eager to wash away the road dust and have a masseur knead away the ache of weeks of travel.

Antigonus was in the tepidarium, soaking in the warm water, with a retinue of sycophants. Marcus ignored them as a slave rinsed him with warm water. He went down into the water with a sigh and leaned back against the edge, closing his eyes and allowing the water to soothe him.

Antigonus waved his friends away and joined him. “You’ve been gone a long time, Marcus. Was your journey profitable?” They talked a few moments about trade and the Roman demand for more goods.

“I saw Julia the other evening with her new husband,” Antigonus said.

Marcus’ eyes shot open. “Her what?”

“By the gods, you don’t know,” he said. “I take it you haven’t seen your family yet. Well, let me enlighten you about events that occurred while you were away. Your lovely sister married Caius Polonius Urbanus several weeks ago. I wasn’t invited, since I don’t know the gentleman. Do you know him? No? A pity. Everyone is curious about Urbanus, but no one knows much about him other than he appears to have a lot of money. How he gained it is a great mystery. He spends most of his time at the games. Rumor has it that he was Calabah Shiva Fontaneus’ lover.“

“You will excuse me, Antigonus.” Marcus left the pool hastily.

He went straight home and found his father in the triclinium with his mother. With a soft exhalation of joy, his mother came and embraced him. He was shocked at the new gray at his father’s temples and at his lack of weight.

“I stopped at the baths and saw Antigonus,” he said, taking a couch and accepting a goblet of wine Enoch poured for him.

“And he told you Julia is married,” Decimus said, seeing the glitter of anger in his son’s eyes. “It’s unfortunate you didn’t come home first and hear it from us.”

“When did all this take place?”

“Several weeks ago,” Phoebe said, turning the tray of sliced beef so the choicest pieces were nearest him. “Eat something, Marcus. You look thinner than last we saw you.”

“What do you know about this man?” Marcus said, uninterested in food.

“He deals in foreign goods and arranges trades with the northern frontiers,” Decimus said. He poured himself some more wine. “Other than that, my agents could find out very little about him.”

“And you allowed Julia to marry him with so little information?”

“We inquired about Caius and learned what we could. We invited Caius here numerous times and found him to be intelligent, charming, educated. Your sister is in love with him, and, for all appearances, he is equally in love with her.”

“Or her money.”

Decimus raised an eyebrow. “Is that what’s really angering you about all of this? Not that you missed Julia’s wedding, but that you’ll have to relinquish control of Claudius’ estate?”

Stung, Marcus set the goblet down with a thump. “If you’ll remember,” he said tightly, “I took on the responsibility because you were in Ephesus. When you returned, you told me to continue administering the estate. I’ve not taken one denarius profit from anything I’ve done for her.”

Decimus sighed. “I apologize. Your concern has always been noted. I left you in control because your decisions were sound. Julia’s estate was safe in your hands. But the burden of that responsibility is now lifted.”