by Martha Marks
“Theodosia.” His voice was tender. “Thank the gods you’re safe!”
“And you, Alexander.” Aware that he could see her in the dim light, though she could not yet see him, Theodosia moved toward the desk. “I almost didn’t recognize you at the banquet.”
“That was the whole idea. You found Stefan?”
“He’s outside.” She set Nicanor’s pouch on the desk. “I’m so sorry about Antibe. I was certain you’d find her.”
Alexander made no response.
“You’ve been on my mind a lot these last years,” Theodosia went on, not sure how to say what she wanted to say. “Thinking of you helped me survive.” Her hand rose timidly to his face. “I guess what I’m trying to say is... I don’t know why I never realized back then—back here—how very much I cared for you. How very much you meant to me.”
She could make out his eyes now, looking into hers.
“I’ve wanted to tell you for so long, but I thought I’d never see you again.” She took another deep breath. “I love you, Alexander!”
“But Stefan—”
“He knows. He understands.”
“Do you mean what you’re saying? You really mean it?”
Her answer was to slide her fingers around his neck and press her lips to his.
Alexander’s hands encircled her waist as he responded with a passion that thrilled her. It was better than any other kiss she had ever known... real or imagined in the Carcer Tullianus.
When he released her, she pushed away, suddenly anxious.
“You haven’t seen me yet. I’m a sight!”
“I have seen you. At the banquet, remember?”
“And you don’t care?”
“Not a bit.”
“But I’m even worse looking than that now.”
“Impossible!” The corners of his eyes crinkled.
“And I’m not the same woman I was before.”
“What? Not that haughty, stubborn, imperious Roman I remember?”
Theodosia began to laugh.
“You haven’t changed a bit. Still mocking me.”
Alexander drew her close once more.
“We don’t have much to start a life on, you know. Just a couple of second-hand rubies.”
“And this, from Nicanor.” Theodosia picked up the pouch on the desk and handed it to him. “I didn’t want to accept it, but it seemed so important to him.” She touched his beard again. “I’ve learned so much since you and I first met, right here in this room.”
“Such as...?”
“Well, for a start... I’ve found out that things almost never are as they appear. I know to look at what people are inside, not at what the world says they are. And I realize that I don’t need things like this villa to be happy. All I really need is you.”
She rested her forehead on his shoulder.
“Oh, Alexander, that haughty, stubborn, imperious Roman you were talking about... You’ll never see her again. She died a long time ago in the Carcer Tullianus.”
After a moment, Alexander eased her away from his shoulder and kissed her forehead.
“The boat’s waiting. We’d better get going.”
As they neared the door, Theodosia slipped away, ran her fingers along the carved wood of Aulus Terentius Varro’s couch, and let her eyes wander around his library one last time.
“Good-bye, Father.”
She turned back to Alexander.
“Be gone, fellow!” she said with mock sternness and an impatient flick of her fingers.
Then, with a smile, she took his hand and followed him into the atrium.
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Historical Note
Marcus Salvius Otho did achieve his most ambitious goals: to marry Poppaea Sabina and become emperor of Rome. Unfortunately for him, neither situation lasted very long.
In A.D. 62—six years after the end of Rubies of the Viper—Emperor Nero divorced Empress Octavia to marry Poppaea, although by then she was already married to Otho. To get rid of his friend and rival, Nero had banished him to faraway Lusitania (now Portugal) to serve as governor. According to ancient author Suetonius, who wrote The Twelve Caesars, the following ditty was soon on everyone’s lips in Rome:
“Otho in exile?” “Yes and no;
That is, we do not call it so.”
“And may we ask the reason why?”
“They charged him with adultery.”
“But could they prove it?” “No and yes:
It was his wife he dared caress.”
Otho governed Lusitania for years and earned a surprisingly good reputation for moderation and common sense.
Meanwhile, Poppaea bore Nero a daughter. She was pregnant again in 65 when—infuriated by her complaints about his returning home late from the races—the emperor kicked her to death in the stomach.
The unsavory recreational activities attributed to Otho and Nero in Rubies of the Viper are loosely based on fact, as is the relationship between Otho and his conservative father.
In 68, Nero was forced by rebellious troops to commit suicide. His last words were: “What an artist the world loses in me.”
His death led to a period of civil war called the Year of Four Emperors, which began with the accession of Servius Sulpicius Galba, the first emperor not of the house of Julius and Augustus Caesar.
In January 69, Galba was overthrown in a conspiracy led by Otho, who was angered by Galba’s refusal to declare him his heir. It was the first time in Roman history that an emperor was murdered by his successor.
Otho, then age 37, wore imperial purple for only three months, during which time troops loyal to him battled troops loyal to Aulus Vitellius, who had been proclaimed emperor by the army in Germany. When defeat became imminent, Otho announced that he would “add one extra night to life.” Then he went to bed, slept soundly, and stabbed himself promptly upon awaking at dawn. Suetonius reports: “The sensation caused by Otho’s end was, I think, largely due to its contrast with the life he had led... Thus many who had hated Otho while alive, loved him for the way he died.”
Otho was followed by Vitellius, who ruled the empire from April to December, when his forces were defeated by others loyal to Titus Flavius Vespasianus the Elder, then age 60.
Vespasian ruled shrewdly and frugally, with great popular support, from 69 to 79, when he died of a chill. It was Vespasian—acting through his son Titus—who in 70 sacked Jerusalem and destroyed the Temple. The Arch of Titus, which still stands in Rome, was built to celebrate his victory over the rebellious Jews.
In 79, Titus Flavius Vespasianus the Younger—by then almost 40 and known as the conqueror of Jerusalem—followed his father on the throne. In the first year of his reign, Vesuvius erupted, burying Pompeii and Herculaneum, a disaster that tested his abilities. He conducted an active building program, which included finishing the Flavian Amphitheater, today known as the Colosseum. A popular and able ruler, he died under suspicious circumstances only two years after assuming the throne. Persistent rumors focused on his younger brother, Domitian, who was known to be resentful of the close relationship between Vespasian and Titus, but nothing was ever proved.
Titus Flavius Domitianus, not quite 30 when he became emperor in 81, earned for himself the name “second Nero.” Murdered in 96 by court officials after fifteen years of tyrannical rule, Domitian was replaced by the gentler, more capable Nerva (96-98) and Trajan (98-117).
The reign of the Flavians is significant for Vespasian’s and Titus’ capable leadership and for being the first dynasty after the Caesars. It is interesting to speculate on how different the final decades of the first century might have been had Titus—”mankind’s darling,” according to Suetonius—survived to rule the years that were given over to his brother, Domitian, known as the “second persecutor” of early Christians.
Flavia Domitilla died young, before her father became emperor. Years later, as emperor, her brother Domitian had her deified and placed her image on imperial coins. Her daughter
—also named Flavia Domitilla—became a Christian saint (in the Greek Orthodox Church). The husband attributed to her in this novel is fictional. For plot purposes, Flavia, Titus, and Domitian are portrayed as slightly older than they actually were in A.D. 53-56.
Theodosia Varro is, of course, a fictional creation, but the great-grandfather attributed to her here, Marcus Terentius Varro—the prolific author of hundreds of books on sound agricultural, health, and library practices, among other things—did live in the century before Christ (116-27 BC). Born at Reate, very close to where Vespasian was born a century later, Varro was considered the greatest Roman scholar of his time.
For biographical information about Martha Marks—and to learn more about the people, places, and history of this novel—please visit Martha's blog: https://marthamarks.wordpress.com/.