A Voice in the Wind (54 page)

“Yes, my lord.”

“When I saw her today, she asked me to send you back. Pack your things and be ready at dawn. Enoch will take you to her.” Decimus felt his son’s reaction.

“Yes, my lord,” she said, no inflection in her voice to hint at her inner turmoil. class=font4> ‘

“You have served us well these past weeks,” Decimus said. “I will miss your music and stories. You may go.” Bowing her head, she whispered a tremulous thanks and was gone.

Marcus glared at his father in consternation. “Julia has no right to her!”

“And you have?”

Marcus bolted up from his couch. “You don’t know everything that’s gone on in that villa!”

“I know enough of what goes on in this one! If this unfortunate tragedy hadn’t occurred, I would have sent Hadassah back to Julia by tomorrow morning anyway. Your feelings for her are inappropriate.”

“Why? Because she’s a slave or because she’s a Christian?”

Decimus was amazed that Marcus didn’t deny his infatuation. “Both reasons suffice, but neither concerns me. What does matter is that Hadassah belongs to your sister. I doubt Julia would appreciate the irony of your falling in love with her slave. And what would happen if you succeeded in seducing Hadassah and got her with child?”

Seeing his son’s expression, Decimus frowned. “When we purchased Hadassah, your mother made a gift of her to your sister. Julia is my daughter, and I love her. I won’t jeopardize what little influence I still have with her over a slave on whom she has a strange dependence. Other than you, whom has Julia trusted? Hadassah. This little Jewess serves your sister with a single-minded devotion that’s rare. Hadassah loves your sister no matter what her faults may be. A slave like her is worth her weight in gold.“

“That love and devotion almost got her killed a few weeks ago.

“I know Caius beat her,” Decimus said.

“Did you know the beating was meant for Julia?”

“Yes. Your sister and mother were blinded by Caius’ charm. I was not.”

“Then why didn’t you prevent the marriage?”

“Because I didn’t want to lose my daughter completely! I forced her into an unwanted marriage, and that turned out to be a disaster. I couldn’t interfere with one she chose for herself.” He winced in pain as he rose from the couch. It was a moment before the pain subsided and he could speak.

“Sometimes, no matter how much you want to protect your children, you have to let them make their own mistakes. All you can do is hold on to the hope that they’ll turn to you when they need you.” He thought of Hadassah’s story of the Prodigal Son and grimaced.

“Much of Julia’s trouble was brought on by her own actions.”

“I know that! It’s always been that way, Marcus. But have you stopped to think? If not for Hadassah, your sister might be dead.”

Marcus went cold. Torn by his love for Hadassah and his concern for his sister, he stared bleakly at his father.

Decimus looked old and drawn, but he gave his son a level look back that asked for silence. Some things were best left unspoken. Though he would never speak of it, he knew a great deal of what had happened in Urbanus’ villa. Closing his eyes, he saw Julia as a child again, beautiful, innocent, winsome, running through the garden and laughing gaily. Then he remembered her as she had been today, withdrawn and pale, suffering so much he could hardly bear to see it.

She had taken her father’s hand, looking up at him with dull eyes. “Just before he died, he looked at me and asked me to forgive him…” she said, seemingly in some terrible torment. “I loved him, Father. I did. I swear I really loved him.”

Her nerves were stretched taut. She would tremble as she wept and then, suddenly, she would be very still, tears spilling down her pale cheeks, her thoughts inward. Calabah Shiva Fontaneus had come to call, having heard the news of Caius’ death, but Julia didn’t want to see her. “Just make her go away! Please! I don’t want to see her. I don’t want to see anyone!” It was the closest she came to losing complete control.

Decimus hoped Phoebe would be able to give their daughter the comfort she needed, but somehow he doubted it. Something deep and hidden gnawed at Julia. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what it was. He knew too much of what she had done already. His grandchild aborted, paying her husband’s gambling debts by prostituting herself. Whatever else she had done, he didn’t want to know. What he knew already hurt him worse than the disease that was eating away at his insides.

“Don’t interfere in this, Marcus. I’m asking you to let it go. Hadassah has a goodness in her that slavery hasn’t ruined. She serves from her heart. Julia
needs
her, Marcus. What you want from Hadassah you could find on any street corner in Rome. Please, for once in your life, don’t take from others to serve yourself.”

Heat filled Marcus’ face as he stared at his father for a moment, then a coldness swept over him. Lowering his eyes, he nodded silently, feeling as he did so that he was sentencing Hadassah to death.

Wordless, unwilling that his father should witness the shaking that was taking him, he turned and left the room.

26

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For the fourth time that week, Julia told Hadassah to make preparations to go to Caius’ tomb outside the city walls. The journey took several hours, and Hadassah made sure there were provisions for a meal, blankets in case the day turned cold, and wine to soothe her mistress’s nerves on the way home. Julia had had constant nightmares since Caius’ death. She made gifts to the household gods, as well as to Hera, but nothing helped her. She couldn’t stop seeing her husband’s face as it had looked a few minutes before he died. He had opened his eyes and looked at her, and she was sure he
knew
.

She was afraid to go to his tomb alone and so invited Octavia to accompany her today. Her mother thought it unhealthy to go so often. Marcus had gone with her once, but was so preoccupied that he was no good to her. She needed someone who could keep her from her thoughts. Octavia always had gossip to share.

Four slaves bore the curtained conveyance aloft. Julia peered out as she and Octavia were carried through the crowded city streets to the gates. Hadassah had gone on ahead with several other slaves so that everything would be laid out when they arrived. Julia could feel Octavia studying her, but said nothing. She was nervous, her palms sweating. She felt nauseated and cold.

Octavia looked Julia over. Dressed in a white stola, her face ashen, her eyes dull and lifeless, her hair combed into a simple style, she looked tragic and vulnerable. Octavia was no longer jealous of her. She had heard rumors about Caius’ gambling and affairs. She smiled smugly. Julia deserved everything that he had done to her. If Caius had turned away from Julia and married
her
, things would have been different. Octavia cast another glance at Julia’s face. Apparently, she still loved him. Octavia relished her feelings of pity.

“You’ve lost weight since I saw you a few weeks ago,” she said. “And you’ve cut yourself off from most of your friends. Calabah is very worried about you.”

Calabah
. Julia’s eyes flickered. She wished she had never met Calabah. If not for her, she would never have murdered Caius.

She cast an uneasy look at Octavia. How much did she know about Caius’ illness? How much had Calabah said to her? “Do you see her often?”

“Daily. I attend her gatherings as always. She misses you.”

“What does she say about me?”

“Say about you? What should she say?” Octavia frowned at her tone. “Calabah isn’t one to gossip, if that’s what you’re implying. You should know that, you being closer to her than I’ve ever been.”

Julia heard the twinge of envy in Octavia’s voice and turned her face away. “I just haven’t felt up to seeing her lately. I can’t think of anything right now but Caius.” She drew the curtain aside slightly so she could peer out at the grassy, tree-studded landscape along the Appian Way. “I don’t know what Calabah expects from me.” She saw a bird take wing into the clear blue sky and wished she could be like that. She wished she could fly far, far away… so far away she would never have to see or hear of Calabah again. Just thinking about her made her so afraid. Calabah knew
everything
. “She would think me very foolish to be taking Caius’ death so hard. Just tell her I’m fine,” Julia said dully.

“You should tell her yourself. You owe her that much.”

Julia shot her a half-frightened look. “What do you mean? Why should I owe Calabah anything?”

“Well, aren’t you the grateful one? She introduced you to Caius.”

There it was again, that hint of anger behind Octavia’s smile. Did she still hate her for stealing Caius’ love, though Caius had never been the least bit interested in Octavia? Surely she knew that. Surely it had been obvious. But Julia couldn’t bear to have anyone dislike her right now.

“If I’d never met Caius, I wouldn’t have all this grief, would I, Octavia? And he gave me plenty of grief before he died, too!”

“I know. I heard rumors.”

Julia gave her a brittle smile and looked out the curtain again. She wished she hadn’t invited Octavia.

Closing her eyes, she tried to think of something else, but she kept remembering Caius as he’d been the day before he died, telling her how much he loved her, how he’d wanted her from the moment he’d seen her, how sorry he was for his abuse and his affairs and his foul luck. He had made her feel so guilty she had almost stopped giving him the poison, but by then he’d been so sick it wouldn’t have mattered. Continuing to give it to him ended his suffering more quickly.

Caius had terrified her the night he had tried to kill her. She had thought his death would be the end of her fear. It was more like the beginning. She was more afraid now than ever before. It was as though she carried a dark presence everywhere with her, as though she couldn’t get away from him.

Caius had been so vital and full of health. People asked questions about his illness, and she wondered if they suspected anything. What would happen to her if they did? She remembered watching as a woman, who had been convicted of murdering her husband, was torn to shreds by wild dogs in the arena. Her heart beat wildly. No one knew except Calabah.
Calabah
. She had given her the poison and told her how to use it. She had admitted murdering her own husband when he threatened to divorce her. Surely Calabah wouldn’t say anything. She clenched her hands in her lap.

Calabah had not told her how awful it would be to watch Caius decline week by week, day by day, hour by hour. She hadn’t said there would be pain.

Julia closed her eyes tightly, trying to block out the image of Caius, pale and shrunken. His once mesmerizing eyes had been glassy, like dull marbles. Nothing showed in them near the end but darkness and death. Maybe, if she’d known how awful it would be to watch him die little by little, she wouldn’t have done it. She would have left him and gone home to her mother and father and Marcus. She would have found some other way.

Yet all of Calabah’s reasons for killing him were still valid. He had betrayed her with other women. He’d tormented her emotionally, beaten her physically. And he would have used up all her money. What other choice had she had but to kill him?

The rationalizations and self-justification roiled in her mind, but guilt tore her reasons to shreds.

“Are you angry with Calabah for some reason?” Octavia asked, studying her.

How could Julia explain that seeing Calabah only reminded her of what she’d done? She didn’t want to be reminded.

“No,” she said bleakly. “It’s just that I don’t feel like seeing too many people right now.”

“I’m flattered you asked me to come with you today.”

“We’ve been friends since we were children.” A sudden rush of tears filled Julia’s eyes. “I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you at times, Octavia. I know I can be dreadful.” She knew Octavia had been in love with Caius. Taking him away from her had given Julia the most immense pleasure, but now she wished she hadn’t done it. By all the gods, she wished Octavia had won him.

Octavia leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “Let’s forget the past,” she said and dabbed tears from Julia’s face with the edge of her shawl. “I’ve forgotten it, anyway.”

Julia forced a smile. Octavia had forgotten nothing. She could feel it in the chill touch of her hand. She had come along today to see her pain and to relish it. “What have you been doing with yourself these days? Do you still visit the ludus?”

“Not as often as I used to now that Atretes is gone,” she said with a shrug.

Julia’s heart sank with swift disappointment. “He was killed?”

“Oh no. I think he’s invincible. But he’s also been a thorn in the emperor’s side, so he was sold to an Ephesian who promotes games in Ionia. I saw him fight during the Ludi Florales. He was matched against another German. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a very exciting match. It was all over in a few minutes and he didn’t even look to see if Domitian’s thumb was up or down. He made his opponent stand up and dispatched him like that.” She snapped her fingers.

“I wish I could have met him,” Julia said, remembering how flushed with excitement she’d been the day he looked up at her. She remembered his gesture and felt the first rush of warmth in weeks.

“Have you noticed that some of the newer statues of Mars and Apollo bear a resemblance to him?” Octavia said. “He was the most beautiful gladiator I’ve ever seen. Just watching him stride out onto the sand made me hot all over. You know, they’re still selling little statuettes of him outside the arena, even though he’s no longer in Rome.” She had purchased one, but would rather die than admit it to Julia.

Before long, they were lowered from the slaves’ shoulders and assisted from the curtained litter. Hadassah and another maid had already laid out the meal, but Julia showed no interest. She stood looking at Caius’ tomb. “It’s not very big, is it?” she said.

Octavia was famished, but she didn’t push; she didn’t want to seem inconsiderate of Julia’s mood. “It’s big enough,” she said.