‘But there are things I could do here…’
‘Do as I ask, Piso.’ Aro nodded towards the curse and watched the comprehension dawn in Piso’s eyes. ‘She must not be left alone. I want to be the one to tell her of the fire. I don’t want to worry her unnecessarily.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘I need to make sure this fire does not cause more damage to the Lupan House. The augurs must read the signs correctly when they arrive to bless this place.’ Aro looked again at the lead tablet. Whoever had cursed him had paid more than a few denarii. Had they paid for the fire to be started as well? ‘A fire can be the symbol of a new beginning as well as the destruction of dreams. It all depends on the priest’s interpretation.’
Sunlight fell in barred slats through the half-open shutters when Lydia awoke from her confused dreams about wolves, the crashing seas and the need to rescue someone, a nameless person. A cold wet nose pushed at her hand and she heard a low whimper.
‘Korina,’ she said to the dog who lay by the side of the bed. ‘I had the strangest dream.’
The dog gave a low woof.
Disorientated, Lydia blinked the sleep away and realised that her marriage was no dream. Her tiny bedroom at the back of the house and well-ordered life were no more. She was now the wife of Fabius Aro and in charge of one of the largest houses on the Aventine.
She had married a man she barely knew. She ought to hate him, but, after last night, she found that impossible. Most men would have insisted on their marital privileges, but he hadn’t. He had considered her needs. Surely that must count for something.
The corners of her mouth tugged as she remembered the way his body felt against hers. There could be something more to this marriage if he was willing to meet her halfway. She planned on fulfilling her vows. She would make him a good wife. She intended on showing him that she could do more than simply run a house—she could help in his business and perhaps then he would start to value her as something more than a status symbol.
Rising, she went to an open door, which revealed a tiny dressing room. She spied her favourite blue gown and matching shawl hanging there. On the dressing table, someone had placed her boxes of wine dregs, powders and various jars of ointment. It appeared that this was indeed meant to be her private room. She pulled on the gown and adjusted the sleeves and neckline. Months of having to wait for Beroe to finish with Sulpicia had taught Lydia how to arrange her hair in a simple but effective style. Her make-up was equally simple, no more than a few strokes with a brush, and she would be ready, ready to meet her husband and begin her new life.
She stifled a slight of disappointment. Then she made a wry face in the bronze mirror. Had she really expected Aro to be here, holding her in his arms? He must have a thousand other things to do.
Last night she had thought he was being kind, but in reality he had probably not wanted to lie with her—any more than Titus had. Lydia pressed her hands against her thighs and ignored the sudden tightening of her throat.
‘Korina, I can’t sit here all day, waiting for Aro to appear.’ She stood up and forced her lips to smile. ‘I need to find him and tell that I must return home for a little while. Sulpicia does not have the least idea of how to look after my father.’
Lydia began to apply the wine dregs and face powder to her face. Her hand hovered over an unfamiliar jar. She opened it, and looked at the unfamiliar brown pills flecked with gold. Somehow, her father’s pills had journeyed with her.
She squashed the rising sense of panic. Her father had been free from attacks since three Kalends ago and his strength was slowly returning. The gods willing, he would never have another attack, but the doctors had warned the next one would have the potential to kill. Those pills needed to be in a place where her father could get them if an attack started. She also needed to explain to Sulpicia and her father’s man-servant what to do, the exact procedure of administering the pills. If they were not given at the precise time, they could do more harm than good, or so the apothecary had said with a dubious shake of his head.
It broke with tradition, but she’d have to return home.
Today.
She had no other choice.
Once she had explained, she was certain Aro would understand. Her jaw clenched. He would have to understand. Her father’s life was at risk. Then, a shiver passed over her. One of her father’s last words had been to keep her family secrets safe. She couldn’t tell Aro without betraying her father. She gritted her teeth. He would have to understand. She’d make him understand without breaking her promise to her father and betraying his secret.
She thrust open the door, went into the atrium with its fountain and goldfish flashing in the sun, but no one was there, not even a servant. Korina tilted her head and looked at her questioningly. Lydia reached down, and gave Korina’s ears a stroke.
‘Something has happened. The servants are far too quiet. A house should be far noisier than this. Shall we go and find out, and then we will go h…to my father’s?’
Korina gave a low bark in agreement.
Lydia, with her heart pounding in her ears, tried several doors. Each led to a frescoed room with a wide variety of statues—Greek statues, some modern, but others clearly copies of more famous works—all very tasteful and the height of fashion, but empty with no one, not even a servant, dusting the figurines.
She was about to give up in frustration and return to her room when she heard a small noise coming from behind the final door.
She cautiously opened the door and peered into the dining room. A fresco of a scene from the myth of Orpheus dominated the walls. The table was laid with plates of silver with platters of cheese, fruit and cakes occupying the centre.
A stab of disappointment ran through her. Rather than the hoped for broad shoulders and trim figure of Aro, a large man reclined on the middle couch, breaking bread. A servant stood behind him with a jug of water. Lydia frowned and attempted to draw back into the shadows of the corridor.
‘You are awake. It is nearly time for lunch,’ the man said conversationally, and indicated a couch on his right.
‘It can’t be that late. I never sleep that late.’
‘I told Aro you would wake soon and want something to eat, but he assured me that you had had a long night and would sleep.’ His large face broke into a huge smile. ‘It is pleasing to see the bridegroom understands his bride’s needs.’
‘You are—?’ Lydia choked back the words, asking where Aro was. She would find him soon enough. Silently she offered up a prayer that no harm would come to her father because of the delay.
‘Piso, his most senior captain,’ he said as if it explained everything. He filled a plate full of figs, hard cheese and brown bread. ‘Eat. Tell me about yourself. Aro has said precious little. He is a sly one, that one. I had no idea he was negotiating for a bride until after the betrothal was set.’
Korina padded up to the man, sniffed and took a bite of his bread.
‘Oh, Korina!’ Lydia’s fingers tugged at Korina’s collar. She had to get Korina out of here before she did some sort of damage, like climbing on the table and eating all the cheese. All she would need was for Aro to take offence and force her to get rid of the dog.
‘She has done no harm.’ He leant down and offered some bread to Korina. The imp took it with a sharp bark of delight and several wags of her tail. ‘There is more than enough to go around.’
‘She had no cause to do that. She is normally better trained.’ Lydia withdrew her hand from Korina.
‘Aro sets a fine table.’ Piso broke off another piece of bread and fed it to Korina. ‘Hercules knows where he found his chef, but I swear his pyramid cakes are second to none. The gods on Mount Olympus do not feast as well as this. Try one.’
Piso held out a plate piled high with golden cakes. The delicious scent of warm honey wafted towards her. Lydia’s stomach rumbled, reminding her that she had eaten very little yesterday. She took the cake and took a nibble. ‘V
ery good.’
‘You must have something more to eat than one cake.’
‘Are you normally this free with someone else’s food?’ Lydia perched on a side couch, tucking her feet under the seat.
‘I am part of the family.’ Piso tapped the side of his nose. ‘Aro allows me to reside here when my ship is in harbour.’
‘He never told me.’ Lydia’s mind raced. She needed to leave without delay, but she had no wish to alienate this man, this senior captain. Perhaps he could prove an ally. She had to play her glass counters carefully.
‘Probably had other things on his mind.’ Piso’s deep brown eyes roamed over her figure. ‘He will return when he can.’
Lydia gave a small nod. A bridegroom who could not be bothered to wake his bride would not be bothered if his bride went to visit her family. All she needed to do was tell Piso where she was going and it would be simple. Minerva was with her.
She’d go now while she had the chance, before she had to explain. She stood up, smoothed her gown and snapped her fingers to Korina to alert her they were going. She’d give a polite half-truth, and go. With any luck, she’d be back before Aro had returned. ‘The cakes and the other delicacies are tempting, but there are things I must be doing. Places I have to go. This house…’
‘Don’t tell me that Aro has put you to work already.’ Piso made an expansive gesture. ‘Come, sit. Beautify this room with your presence. A woman like you enhances the room she is in.’
‘Really, I—’
‘Here I discover you, Lydia, eating pyramid cakes with one of my captains.’ Aro’s voice washed over Lydia, stopping her planned words of departure. ‘Has he devoured them all?’
Lydia closed her mouth with a snap. The bland excuse she had been about to give would no longer work. She turned towards Aro.
Dressed in a short white tunic, Aro stooped and fondled Korina’s ears. His hair glistened as if it were freshly washed. Lydia’s hand curled. He had been to the baths! That was what had drawn him from her side. The baths. Here, she had worried that something might be wrong, and he had been to the baths! He could have left word. When Titus had gone out on the town with his friends, he had always left word.
He reached over, plucked a pyramid cake from the pile and fed it to the dog, who had trotted over to him. The traitorous dog gobbled the cake and then lay down at his feet with a satisfied sigh.
Lydia drew her blue shawl tighter about her body. She refused to be as easily won over as Korina. She would maintain a dignified but injured silence until he explained.
His face had become sterner. There were lines that had not been there last night. The Sea Wolf was back. Last night, she had thought perhaps they had reached some sort of agreement, but now she saw she was wrong. Her stomach knotted as the tales Sulpicia whispered to her resurfaced. How he had raced the wind with shipments of Egyptian grain to be the first to arrive in Rome for three years running, how he fought sea monsters and won. A man only the brave dare cross.
‘Wish you good fortune.’ Piso rose and dusted his tunic down. His eyes roamed up and down her gown. A smile tugged at his cheek. ‘Your wife has been keeping me company, Aro. You are a lucky man to snare such a wife. Such a wife might indeed induce me into the coils of matrimony.’
‘I live to see the day.’ Aro held out his arms, beckoned towards her. ‘Lydia, are you going to greet your husband or have the Furies done away with your tongue in the night? You never have had trouble speaking before.’
‘My voice is my own, even if little else is.’ Lydia brought her head up sharply. It irritated her. Not only had he disappeared without a word, he expected her to be overjoyed at his return as if that was all she desired in the world. She did want to see him, but not like this.
‘So she does have a voice this morning. Come and greet me, wife.’ His eyes crinkled at the corners and he held out both his hands. The stern lines on his face vanished and his eyes took on a tender expression. ‘You were fast asleep when I had to leave you.’
‘You should have woken me.’ Lydia inclined her head. How did he expect her to greet him? With a kiss? Despite the memory of the taste of his mouth flooding through her, Lydia rejected the idea. She was no simpering nanny goat.
He settled it for her, reached out and brushed his lips against her cheeks. His warm scent of sandalwood, intermingled with something all his own, enveloped her and held her, driving away all other thoughts. Then she stepped away from him, and all the doubts crowded back in.
Lydia reached out and gave Korina a stroke. The Aro of this morning was very different from the man who had held her close last night. Very few men would have thought about a wife’s nerves. If she had woken when he did, maybe things could have been said. She could have thanked him for his consideration, but not now, here in front of his captain.
Lydia straightened her spine.
Such thoughts were nonsense. She did have a purpose in life and that was ensuring her father’s well being. She had promised Publius that she’d look after him; more importantly, she had promised her mother on her death bed. Inadvertently, she had put her father’s life at risk. She had to act now, before it was too late. Surely he could not refuse a request to visit her family, as out of the ordinary as it was, not when he had visited the baths.
‘I had come looking for you.’ Her voice sounded high and strained. Lydia paused, wiped her hands against her gown. This was much harder than she thought. ‘I wanted to discover how I could obtain a litter. I wish to pay a visit to my father.’
‘You bade your father farewell, yesterday. To visit him so soon after the wedding would cause people to talk, and to question the omens for the marriage.’ Aro’s eyes flashed gold. The light-heartedness vanished. His hand rested heavy on Lydia’s shoulder, preventing her from moving away from him. His chest that had seemed comforting last night appeared hard and unyielding. ‘You belong to this family now. You are my responsibility now.’
Chapter Eight
A ro’s words resounded in Lydia’s brain. He had forbidden her to see her father!
Lydia pulled away from his hand and put some distance between them. He made no attempt to keep her there. She drew a deep breath and tried not to panic. She must have misunderstood.
‘But I desire to pay my father a visit.’
‘Some time, but not today. It would not be seemly.’
Lydia’s mouth dropped open and then she shut it firmly, pressing her lips together. She stared at her husband with his face stern and unyielding. He was already turning to Piso to speak of something else.
How could he do such a thing? It was as if she had asked to visit the gods on Mount Olympus, instead of making a short journey to the Palatine. He had just been to the baths. He could go wherever he wished without asking her, but she was little better than a slave. She was expected to obey him and get his permission. The injustice of it all.
She forced her body to relax. Lose her temper and she’d risk losing everything.
‘Nevertheless, I need to return to my father’s compound today,’ Lydia began and wondered how she might explain without alerting him to her father’s weakness. She had to respect her father’s wishes if he had not confided in his son-in-law. How could she discover how much Aro knew? Her heart pounded in her ears. ‘There are things I have to do there. My father depends on me to manage his house.’
Aro stopped. His back stiffened. Piso started to say something, but Aro gave a quick shake of his head.
‘Your sister-in-law lives with your father. Surely she has a duty to see to the house.’ All warmth had drained out of his voice. The scar on the side of his face glowed white. ‘I see no reason for you to return so quickly to your father’s house. It is against tradition. We will speak no more of this. My mind is quite decided.’
Lydia forced her head to remain erect. She refused to beg, to explain about her father’s illness. It had nothing to do with Aro. Standing there with his hands balled on his hips as if he expected her to meekly take his word
for it, he had to understand that she intended to lead her life much as she had done before.
‘There are plenty of reasons why I need to return. Sulpicia chooses not to have anything to do with the running of the house. She helps out with the spinning or the weaving if the mood strikes her, but she has no idea about the accounts or where things are stored.’
‘She appears to be an intelligent woman. A naked woman soon learns the art of spinning, as my old nurse used to say.’
‘This marriage was very sudden and…’ Lydia tried again, but with each word, she felt herself slipping deeper into the ooze of lies ‘…and I want to make sure that all the food has been properly stored, and the wool is properly marked. You have no idea how quickly household affairs can become muddled.’
‘Your father’s villa seemed well stocked with slaves when I was last there. In my experience, if slaves have been trained by a good mistress they know what to do, before they are asked.’ He paused, his golden gaze drilling into her. He crossed his arms, the forbidding captain of a ship rather than the man who had held her in his arms last night. ‘Tell me the truth, Lydia. Why is it so important that you go right today, this very hour? If I deem it appropriate, you may go.’
She’d try the truth this time, ungilded and plain. Then he would no doubt let her go.
Lydia drew herself up to her full height. He might dismiss servants and his men, but not her. She intended to fight. Her father’s life was important. To save it, she would have to break her promise to him. Surely he’d understand. He had to understand.
‘My father is ill.’ Her voice was quiet, but assured. ‘He has suffered attacks, pains in his head.’
He lifted an eyebrow, but his lips were pressed into a tight line. ‘He seemed well enough yesterday, positively brimming with life, greeting all the guests. I have heard no rumours of this trouble. Before that he was in the Senate. Have you heard any rumours, Piso?’
The other man shrugged and shook his head. Lydia’s heart sank. The gold she had given the doctors had worked—too well.
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