by Martha Marks
“Livy.”
“Something else?”
“A letter from Corinth. I took the liberty of opening it.”
“Of course. Where are they?”
“Syria, most likely.”
“We’ll find them. You’ll see.” She shut her eyes for a few moments, then looked at him. “You’ve been here every night.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Your face. You’re exhausted.”
“My lord Titus spent many hours here, too. The lady Flavia. Their father. Your servants... including,” he said with emphasis, “Stefan.”
“But not like you. I may have looked like a dead fish, but I wasn’t completely unaware. Thanks for standing up to them. I really didn’t want to go to Caere. How’re my legs?”
The gold-flecked pupils challenged him for the truth.
“Not pretty, but the right one will heal, according to Timon. He’s not so optimistic about your left leg.”
“Why can’t I move them?”
“They’re in splints. It was quite a process. You were in great pain, so Timon gave you opium. We had to keep you still while he pulled your legs into position and pounded on the braces. The general, his son, and Senator Otho, plus...” Alexander gave a self-deprecating chuckle, “this poor Greek. Each of us holding down a part of you. What a scene. Good thing you were unconscious, or you’d never forgive us.”
“How embarrassing!” Theodosia rolled her head to the other side, then back toward him. “Otho was here?”
“He showed up the day after we found you.”
“He already knew what had happened?”
“Everything. The slave grapevine works fast, remember? Later on— But that’s a story for another day.”
There was a long silence. She stretched out her hand once more.
“Will I walk again? The truth, please.”
“It’s too soon to say.”
“Stupid, wasn’t it? Stupid fit of temper. How’s Stefan?”
“Angry about that beating you gave him. But he still loves you, and he’ll be glad to know you’re awake.”
“I’m going to tell him about the baby.”
“You’ve lost your baby, miss.” It was an abrupt way to break the news. “There was so much blood out there that nobody suspected it, but since I knew...”
He turned his eyes away for a few moments.
“My wife miscarried our second child, right before the Romans took me away. We were in trouble, and the stress was too much for her. Anyway, I knew what to look for. Timon confirmed it later... just to me.”
Theodosia’s face had contorted. Tears glistened in her eyes. From her throat came a barely audible moan.
“There’s no reason now for you not to marry my lord Titus.” Alexander enclosed her hand with both of his, hoping to divert her attention. “He spent hours here every day. It’s obvious that he loves you.”
“Will he want to marry a woman who can’t walk?”
“He knows all about your injury. Hasn’t given any sign that it’s changed his mind.”
Theodosia stared at the ceiling. Alexander waited a bit, then went on.
“He’s a fine young man.”
“I don’t love Titus.”
“Do you love Stefan?”
“I thought I did, a month ago. Now… I really don’t know. What’s clear is that I have to marry someone soon, if only to protect you and everyone else here from imperial confiscation. Just in case I do something else as dumb as this and don’t survive it next time around.”
Alexander gave her a crooked smile.
“If you were to take my advice—which, of course, you’d never do!—you’d marry Titus Flavius Sabinus Vespasianus the Younger, just as soon as you’re able. For your sake and ours, miss. Considering the alternatives, we could all do a lot worse.”
Theodosia managed a crooked smile of her own.
“Well, I might take your advice... for once.” She looked into his eyes. “There’s something I want to tell you, Alexander. No matter who I marry, I think you’re probably the finest man I’ll ever know.”
Suddenly aware of how long he had been sitting there, holding her hand as if he had a right to, Alexander felt his face blaze.
“Well, you— I— That’s some consolation, I suppose.”
<><><>
Theodosia slept for two more days, but it was a healing sleep, not the fevered blackness of the past. Feeling stronger the third morning, she ate a full breakfast for the first time since her accident.
Today I resume control of my life.
“I want to thank everyone in the household who sat with me,” she said to Dabini and Selicio as they collected her trays. “Tell Alexander to bring them all here together.”
Alexander came alone.
“You should rest.” His voice was oddly insistent.
“I’m tired of resting.”
Resuming control of my life starts with Alexander.
“Bring the others up!”
Soon an odd assortment of servants clustered around her bed... Marcipor, Stefan, Milo, Lycos, Etrusca, and Nicanor. The presence of the latter two would have been a surprise had Alexander not told her how they begged for the chance to keep watch over her. Theodosia spent a few moments talking to each of the six in turn. It took her a while to realize that something was wrong... a reluctance by everybody to catch her eye, a visible discomfort in her presence. She had never felt anything like it.
Something’s happened.
Then she realized...
“Where’s Lucilla? Didn’t she sit with me, too?”
Nobody said anything.
“What’s the matter with Lucilla?”
Lycos developed a sudden interest in a gull soaring outside the window. Marcipor turned to Alexander, whose gaze had followed the boy’s. Milo, Etrusca, and Nicanor began to inspect the frescoes above the bed. The only one looking at Theodosia was Stefan, and his expression was inscrutable.
“I asked a question,” she said, “and I do expect an answer.”
“I’ll explain it to you, miss,” Alexander said. “Will you please let everybody else get back to work?”
Theodosia nodded.
Something is very wrong.
“I didn’t want to tell you so soon,” Alexander began after the others had left. “I’ve had Lucilla locked in one of the storage rooms for a week.”
“Locked up?”
“She tried to poison my lord Titus.”
“What?”
Theodosia pushed herself onto one elbow, wincing as pain shot through her legs and back.
“Please lie down.” Alexander eased her onto her pillow. “May I sit?”
Theodosia made a little gesture of assent.
“One afternoon, when my lord Titus was here with you, I let Selicio into the wine-storage room to pour some Falernian for him. Selicio left, but I stayed behind to reorganize the supply and lock the room again. Lucilla ran up to Selicio in the atrium and said I had something else for him to take to your bedroom. He left the pitcher beside the pool and went to find me.” Alexander shook his head. “I hadn’t even spoken with Lucilla that day, so Selicio and I were suspicious. She was gone when we got to the atrium, but the pitcher was still there. On a hunch, we poured another, and Selicio took it to serve my lord Titus. I carried the first pitcher to the shepherds’ compound and trickled some of the wine down the throat of their oldest dog.”
“And...?”
“The dog went into convulsions and died.”
“Immortal gods!” Theodosia tugged her blanket over her shoulders. “Are you sure Lucilla poisoned the wine? Couldn’t Selicio have done it?”
“Then he wouldn’t have told me about it.”
“Unless he wanted to get her in trouble.”
Alexander shook his head again.
“After the dog died, Selicio and I hauled Lucilla into the grain-storage room. I searched her and found this.” He pulled a nearly empty blue glass vial from the pouc
h on his belt. “Lucilla hasn’t been out since.”
Theodosia took the bottle, swished its remaining contents, slipped out the plug, and whiffed. No odor. Mixed with wine, the stuff—whatever it was—would probably be undetectable. She replaced the plug, laid the vial on the table, and turned her eyes to Alexander.
“There’s more,” he said, digging deeper into the pouch. “That night, while I was sitting with you, I searched Lucilla’s bedroom. I found this tucked under her mattress, beside the wall.”
He handed her a silver amulet... a tightly coiled serpent with a tiny ruby in its mouth.
Dear gods... Lucilla!
“You never saw this before?”
“Never.”
“Does she know you found it?”
“No.”
Theodosia studied the little silver viper for a moment, then buried it under the blanket.
“Bring Lucilla to me. Right now.”
<><><>
Lucilla halted a few steps from Theodosia’s bed.
“I trusted you.”
“I never betrayed your trust, miss.”
Theodosia lifted the blue glass vial.
“What’s this, then?”
“Poison, I guess, but it’s not mine.”
“Liar. You tried to murder Titus.”
“No, miss. Alexander’s the one who wants my lord Titus dead. He slipped the poison into that wine jug, not me.”
Theodosia glanced at Alexander, who looked remarkably unperturbed for one accused of a capital crime.
“That’s ridiculous. He’s been trying to convince me to marry Titus.”
“It’s a trick, can’t you see? To cover up the fact that he don’t want you marrying nobody.”
“That makes no sense.”
“Oh yes, it does. Everyone knows Alexander’s in charge around here. You don’t do nothing without his approval, and a new master would change that. He’s scared to death you’ll marry Senator Otho. Knows he’ll get beat for his impudence.”
“You sound like Otho.”
“I’m telling you the truth, miss, just like the senator did.”
“Why would Alexander want to make me suspect you?”
“He hates me ‘cause I won’t sleep with him.” Lucilla gave a long, loud sigh... as if reluctant to tell the truth, but to Theodosia the emotion sounded contrived. “He comes around when I’m alone. Puts his inky hands on me and threatens all kinds of things if I don’t give in.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
“You never believed nothing I said about him. Now that he knows I’m not going to have sex with him, he’s making all this up to get even.”
“Selicio was in the storeroom, too,” Alexander said calmly. “He saw me take that vial from her.”
“Selicio’s just as bad! They’re all jealous of me and Ste—” The name froze in Lucilla’s mouth as her self-confidence crumbled. “Oh, miss, you’ve got to believe me!”
Theodosia inspected Lucilla’s broad face, studying the familiar pale pairing of eyebrows and eyes, wide open now in sudden desperation. Then she looked at Alexander, trying in vain to picture him threatening Lucilla... or even fondling her.
“I can only accept one version of this story, Lucilla, and Alexander’s version makes more sense than yours.”
“But it’s not true!” Lucilla fell to the floor and clutched at the edge of Theodosia’s blanket. “It’s just like Alexander to turn you against me. He’s dangerous! You don’t know!”
I was able to frighten Alexander once. I should be able to frighten Lucilla now.
“I don’t believe a word you’re saying.” Her tone was as cold as she could make it. “Get away from my bed.”
Lucilla leaped up. Blood surged to her face as she stepped backward.
“What’re you going to do with me, miss?”
“There’s only one thing to do with a slave you no longer trust.” Theodosia’s eyes never left Lucilla’s face. “Alexander.”
“Yes, miss?”
“Tomorrow morning, you will take Lucilla to the slave market in Rome. She’s not to speak to anyone before she leaves. Is that clear?”
“Quite clear, miss.”
He understands what I’m doing.
“You can’t sell me away from Stefan! I love him!”
“I absolutely can. I intend to.”
“But you promised!”
Suddenly the emotion was real. Lucilla’s face convulsed as tears overflowed her eyes. She dropped to her knees again, then leaned onto her forearms and began to wail.
“Stop it,” said Theodosia. “Alexander, get her out of here.”
Alexander bent over Lucilla and seized her wrists.
She snapped at his hand.
He wrapped an arm around her waist and began tugging her toward the door. Lucilla was a large woman. Wrestling with her was obviously no easy task for a man who had spent much of his adult life at a desk.
As Alexander was struggling with Lucilla, Theodosia managed to push herself into a sitting position, ignoring the pain.
“Wait,” she said after he was in full control. “Bring her back here.”
Alexander marched Lucilla to the bed. Theodosia did not speak until the reddened eyes focused on her own.
Now.
“Lucilla, would you like another chance?”
The girl’s bobbing head answered the question. Theodosia reached under her blanket and brought out the ruby-serpent amulet.
“Tell me how you came by this.”
Lucilla’s eyes bulged; her chin began to tremble. She cast a glance at Alexander, who tightened his grip on her waist. She gasped and squirmed and moaned, but ultimately said nothing.
“Very well,” Theodosia said as the silence grew. “Take her away.”
“No, miss, I’ll—” Lucilla sobbed. “It was a gift!”
“From whom? Remember, the first lie seals your fate.”
“From Senator Otho... back when he was just a tribune.”
“Why did he give it to you?”
“To get me to spy for him.”
“Spy on me?”
“Yes.”
“And have you done that?”
Lucilla hung her head and nodded.
Otho always knew everything I did, but... Dearest Juno, I never suspected the spy was Lucilla!
“Since when?”
“Since before we left Rome.”
“Since May?”
Lucilla shook her head.
“He first met with me last December, before Saturnalia.”
“A whole a year ago? Months before my brother was murdered?”
Lucilla nodded again.
Theodosia’s elbow gave out. She collapsed and began to choke.
Alexander released Lucilla.
“Pour some water,” he said as he slipped an arm under Theodosia and lifted her upright.
Lucilla splashed water from a bedside pitcher into a cup and handed it to Alexander. When Theodosia’s coughs subsided, he held the cup to her lips.
“The rest of this can wait,” he said as she drank.
“No. I have to finish it. Lucilla, what did Otho promise you?”
“Freedom.” The word was barely audible.
“By all the immortal gods. He couldn’t promise you freedom!”
“But he did. He said he’d free me when he married you.”
“Is that why you were always pushing his cause?”
“Yes, miss.”
Lucilla had steadied a bit, but her eyes were still wide with fear.
“What else were you to do for him?”
“Let him know if you was thinking about marrying somebody else. Tell him anything interesting about your private life.”
“You told him about Stefan and me, didn’t you?”
A tiny nod.
“I suppose he bribed you, too. Gave you money.”
“At first. Then—before we came here—he gave me that little snake.”
“Did Otho
say where he’d gotten it?”
“He said he’d had it made just for me. He said I’d see other things like it here. Big silver pieces with serpents and rubies. He said he’d had them made for your brother… just like he’d had this piece made for me.”
Theodosia and Alexander exchanged looks.
“You’re sure Otho told you that?”
“Oh yes, miss. He promised me that the day he married you, I’d go free and he’d give me all those snake things for my own. He said he was giving me this little one as a token of his pledge. So later, when I saw the others here, I believed him.” Lucilla’s face crumpled into another sob. “He was nice to me, miss. Real gentle. Always said how much he loved you, so I couldn’t see nothing wrong with helping him. And every time he came here he added to what he promised, so it seemed like whatever I wanted I was going to get… just as soon as you married him.”
Alexander pounced on that.
“What else did he promise you?”
“I don’t answer to you!”
“You’ll answer every question you’re asked,” Theodosia said. “What else did he promise you?”
Lucilla’s answer was garbled.
“What?”
“Stefan. As my own slave.”
“And you believed him? Oh, you fool. Don’t you know that—for much of this year—Otho was trying to have Stefan fight in the arena?”
“The arena? Stefan?”
“Of course! To win popularity for Otho and votes in the election. You stupid, gullible fool! You really believed he’d not only give you your freedom but also piles of silver and gigantic rubies and a slave worth thirty thousand denarii?”
“I wanted to believe it.” Lucilla blinked back her tears.
“When did Otho give you that vial of poison?” It was just a guess, but Theodosia was sure it was true.
“Two weeks ago. The last time he was here. I didn’t want to take it, but he scared me. He wasn’t talking gentle anymore.”
Theodosia’s eyes sought Alexander’s again.
“He must have been getting worried,” Alexander said, “realizing he’d blown his chance with you, after that episode in the garden.”
“Well, miss,” Lucilla said, “he swore if I didn’t poison my lord Titus, he’d tell you everything I’d been doing for him, just as soon as you came to. He said you’d have me whipped for sure.”