The Raven and the Rose (13 page)

“Have you been waiting long?” he said huskily.

“It seemed long,” she replied, her wide eyes searching his face.

“I had to wait for your sister to bring me in,” Marcus said apologetically.

Julia smiled and held his hand to her cheek. “I can’t believe you’re here,” she said softly.
 

“Julia, did you think I might not come?” he asked her incredulously.

“I didn’t know what to think. Sometimes, while I waited for this night, it seemed I had dreamed our meeting by the spring, that I wanted it so much I’d imagined it.”

“I’m no phantom,” he said, taking her hands and leading her to Larthia’s bed. They sat on its edge and faced one another.

“When Larthia brought me in here she told me that my life was taking a dangerous turn,” Marcus said, twining Julia’s fingers with his.

“But I’m a soldier and my life has been full of dangers. Facing them is my trade.” He looked down at their joined hands and then up into her face. “Your life has been very different. I wonder if you’ve considered what continuing to see me will mean.”

“I’ve considered it,” Julia replied.

He hesitated, aware that he wasn’t making himself clear. “Julia, so far we’ve done nothing more than talk. You can walk away from me now and have no worries about your future.”

“But I can’t walk away from you, Marcus,” she replied, saying his name for the first time. “I knew that in the recording room of the Aedes the day we met.”
 

He pulled her into his arms again. “Then we have to make plans,” he said against her ear. “Will your sister allow us to continue to meet here?”

“Yes,” Julia whispered.

“How?”

Julia drew back and looked at him. “I feigned illness tonight not only to enable me to retire from the party but to set up a reason to meet with Larthia’s physician in the future.”

“Why?”
 

“I can tell Livia Versalia that I must come here on each
nundina
to receive his ministrations. The doctor lives just across the Via Sacra but it would not be seemly for me to go to his home for treatment. Livia will accept my meeting with him here.”

“Wouldn’t she expect him to come to the Atrium Vestae to see you?”

“Males other than relatives are not permitted intimate contact with a Vestal within the temple or the atrium. We must always go out to see physicians.”

“And how will you keep the doctor quiet?” Marcus asked, concerned.

“I plan to see him as a patient,” Julia said reasonably. “He is greedy enough to be well paid every eight days for treating imaginary ailments. I will work hard to be a convincing actress.” She smiled and put her head on Marcus’ shoulder. “And when he leaves, I will then see you.”

Marcus chuckled. “Brilliant as well as beautiful.”

“It was Larthia’s idea.”

“The words apply to your sister as well.”

“She is taking a big chance for us,” Julia said.

“It’s my guess that Larthia could take on the Persian horde and come out the winner,” Marcus said dryly.

Julia giggled.

“How will I wait for another market day before seeing you again?” Marcus asked, nuzzling her hair.

“I know it’s a long time, but I didn’t want to risk sending messages back and forth to set up meetings,” Julia whispered. “This way, you’ll always know when you’ll see me.”

“It will never be often enough,” Marcus said, bending his head to kiss her.

Julia accepted the pressure of his mouth on hers, her lips parting slightly, then clutched his shoulders as he drew her closer and embraced her more fully. His mouth was moving caressingly from her lips to her neck when the door to the hall opened and Larthia burst into the room.

“Out!” she said breathlessly to Marcus. “Livia Versalia is on her way in here right now to check on Julia. Go out the door to the portico!”

Marcus leaped to his feet, releasing Julia so suddenly that she fell back on the bed.

“Next market day, at sunset,” Julia said, clutching desperately at his hand.

“For pity’s sake, Julia, let him go!” Larthia hissed. “She must be almost here!”

Julia drew back and Marcus fled across the room and out the door. It had just closed behind him when Livia tapped softly on the door leading to the hall.

“Julia Rosalba?” she called. “May I come in?”

Larthia waved Julia into a prone position on the bed and waited until her sister had arranged her clothing. Then she pulled the door open and greeted Livia with a wide smile.

“Well, the guest of honor! I think my sister is feeling better, Livia, the rest must have done her good.”
 

Livia advanced into the room, the hem of her gown whispering along the marble tiled floor. She walked to the side of the bed and studied the prone figure of the younger woman lying there.

“I don’t know, Larthia, she looks flushed to me. Don’t you think she looks flushed?”

Larthia, who knew very well why Julia’s cheeks were rosy, said hastily, “Perhaps she has a touch of fever.”

Livia seemed concerned. “The Pontine Marshes are a terrible source of contagion this time of year.”

“You could send her to see my physician, Paris, he’s very good. She could meet with him here at my house. Would you like me to arrange it?”

Livia nodded, putting the back of her hand to Julia’s forehead. “Yes, I would. Thank you, Lady Sejana.”

Larthia winked at Julia behind Livia’s back.

“I take the welfare of my ladies very seriously,” Livia said briskly. “Julia Rosalba, spend the remainder of the evening resting and I excuse you from your duties tomorrow. And we will arrange for you to see the Greek healer as soon as possible. I’ll send a litter for you tonight so you won’t have to go back to the Atrium with us in the
currus.
”

“Thank you, Livia,” Julia said from the bed.

“Now we must rejoin the party,” Larthia said to Livia, putting her hand on the Chief Vestal’s shoulder and directing her toward the door. “I’m sure the guests will want to say good night to you before they go home.”

Larthia looked back at her sister reassuringly as they went through the door, then made small talk with Livia while they walked back to the gathering, where the partygoers were indeed taking their leave. Larthia left Livia to say goodbye and grabbed a cup of wine from a passing slave and drank from it deeply.

She was not as steady as she appeared; when Livia almost walked in on Marcus and her sister Larthia’s heart was in her mouth. She swallowed hard and forced a smile to her lips when her next door neighbor, Portia Scipiana Campania, appeared and extended her plump hand.

“Lovely convivium, Larthia, I’m sure Livia Versalia is most pleased.”

“Thank you.”
 

“My dear, I must speak to you. I’ve noticed something this last week and this evening too, and I’ve been intrigued.”

“Really?” Larthia said, wondering apprehensively what was coming.

Portia nodded. “Why is that huge slave following you around everywhere you go?”
 

 
Larthia looked at Verrix hovering in the background and groaned inwardly. Portia was the wife of a
quaestor
, or tax collector, and a notorious gossip. Whatever she told Portia would be the equivalent of writing it on a broadsheet and having it posted in the forum.

“He’s my bodyguard,” Larthia replied, deciding that a simple version of the truth was best.

Portia’s eyes widened. “Are you in danger?”

Larthia shrugged dismissively. “I am humoring my grandfather. He’s worried about the political unrest and thinks I may become a victim of his battles with Caesar.”

“Surely we are more civilized than that,” Portia said, drawing the hood of her evening coat over her head.

“I would hope so,” Larthia replied, nodding at a departing guest who waved in farewell.

“Is he a Gaul?” Portia asked, looking in the direction of Verrix, who remained immobile against a wall.

“What else? Don’t you see the torque?”
 

“He’s very comely. Hair the color of ripe corn, and those pale eyes. The Gauls are handsome people.”

“You forget what he looks like very quickly when exposed to his personality,” Larthia said darkly.

“I know they make difficult slaves,” Portia said, shaking her head resignedly. “My husband says that they are virtually intractable. Not like the Greeks, who seem to be philosophical about their servile status and adapt to it. The Celts fight their fate tenaciously to the very end.”

Larthia nodded, noting with alarm that Verrix seemed to be listening to what they were saying.

“Well, I must be going,” Portia said. “I have to find my doddering husband, who is doubtless getting drunk on Lesbian wine with that fool Titus Labienus. Thank you again for a splendid evening. Good night.”

Larthia managed to stay on her feet long enough to get rid of the remainder of her guests and see Livia Versalia into her carriage. With the departure of the rest of the Vestals, who followed behind Livia in another conveyance, Larthia was released from her role as hostess. She was walking around her house wearily, directing the cleanup operation, when she saw that Verrix was wearing a very mutinous expression.

“What is wrong with you?” she finally said to him impatiently, turning to face him with her hands on her hips, in no mood for his nonsense.

“May I have a word in private, mistress?” he asked, making the last word sound, as he always did, like blasphemy.

Larthia waved him wordlessly into an anteroom and shut the door.

“I heard what that woman said about me,” he announced immediately.

“What woman?”

“That fat woman in the blue hooded coat.”

“What she said is of no consequence to you.”

“Does it make you feel superior to discuss me as if I were some special breed of canine?” he said furiously. “Gauls are intractable, Greeks adapt- we are people, Lady Sejana, not hunting hounds!”

“You are slaves,” Larthia said. “Bear it in mind.”

“Oh, I see. Am I going to hear about flogging again? Shall I get you the lash?”

“For your information, I spared you from a fate far worse than flogging this very night. If I wanted you to suffer I would have turned you over to that centurion, Demeter. He was very eager to get his vengeful hands on you.”
 

Verrix looked back at her, stone faced. “I saw him,” he said shortly.

“Is that all you have to say?”

“I did what was necessary to escape from Roman captivity,” he said shortly. “His friend was killed in the process.”

“That’s not how he sees it.”

“That’s how it was.”

“He would have seized you right in front of everybody if I hadn’t stopped him.”

“I don’t need a woman to intervene for me,” Verrix said shortly.

“I didn’t intervene for YOU,” Larthia said nastily. “You represent a substantial investment of my grandfather’s, I want him to get his money’s worth.”

Verrix stared back at her, inwardly seething but silent as a tomb.

Larthia met his gaze, uncomfortable with his anger. Why did she care what he thought? It bothered her that she did.

“Why do you pay attention to that stupid Campania woman’s chatter anyway?” Larthia said in irritation. “Everyone knows she’s a brainless babbler.”

“You were paying attention to her.”

“I was making conversation.”

“You were agreeing with her!”

Larthia stared at him.

“You nodded!” he said furiously.

“I was trying to get rid of her! I wanted her to go home, I wanted all of them to go home. If she had said that she was about to sprout a peaked crown and turn into the goddess Juno I would have nodded!”

Verrix glared at her but again said nothing.

“Why am I having this conversation with you?” Larthia asked herself aloud. “Why do I always do this?” She closed her eyes, opened them again, and announced, “I am going to bed. Nestor will find something for you to do.”

He turned immediately to go but for some reason she couldn’t afterwards fathom she stopped him at the door.

“Verrix, why did my interchange with Portia bother you so much?” she asked, her tone of command now altered, almost conciliatory. “You must be accustomed to the Roman attitude toward slaves by this time.”

He turned slowly to face her.

“It’s not the Roman attitude toward slaves,” he said. “It’s yours.”

“I am a Roman woman.”
 

His gaze fell away from hers. “I want you to think of me as a person,” he said quietly.

Larthia looked back at him in silence, her heart beginning to beat faster.

“I want you to think of me as a man,” he added, even more softly, and left.

Larthia swallowed hard, putting her hand out to touch the shelf next to her. The terracotta jars and pots stored there rattled with the sudden motion.