The Divining

by Wood, Barbara

  "Come," he said, taking her travel packs and medicine kit, slinging them over his broad shoulders.

  As they left the gate and the city and the crowds, as Ulrika walked at Sebastianus's side, feeling his hand on her arm as he guided her, protected her, she thought the sun had never shone so brightly, the river breezes had never been so fresh, the crops in the fields never so green.

  She thought her heart would burst with joy and love.

  They came to the vast staging field for caravans heading for distant places. Sebastianus led Ulrika along lines of kneeling camels, the stench of dung filling the air, with flies buzzing about, and men hurrying this way and that among what seemed like a hundred tents.

  A man came around a service tent, wiping his hands on a cloth, frowning in deep thought. Ulrika recognized him as Primo, the military veteran who had been Sebastianus's chief steward. He looked a little older, a little more weathered, but she was pleased he had come through the experience unscathed, for she recalled that it was he who had been responsible for the safety of the caravan.

  He glanced up and when he saw his master, grinned. But then his eyes caught Ulrika and his grin not only faded, it was replaced by a scowl.

  "He's not happy about something," Ulrika murmured.

  "Primo is anxious to return to Rome. He has been insisting that we leave Babylon." Sebastianus smiled. "I would agree with him, except that I knew you were here and I had to find you."

  Ulrika sensed something darker behind Primo's look of displeasure. She could not pinpoint it, but she had the feeling that his anger was directed at her. Recalling her feeling, back in Antioch, that a traitor lurked among Sebastianus's men, Ulrika wondered if there was more to Primo's dark look than impatience to get to Rome.

  And then she received a shock. A frail, white-haired man with gaunt cheeks and arms like sticks, his robes hanging loosely on him, came up and said, "It is good to see you again, dear child."

  Ulrika stared at him. It took her a moment to realize it was Timonides. What had happened to the old astrologer? She tried to hide her dismay by smiling and saying, "It is good to see you again, Timonides."

  "Here we are," Sebastianus said when they arrived at an enormous tent fashioned of thick red cloth and topped with snapping gold pennants. He took her hand and led her inside.

  And Ulrika entered another world.

  The heavy fabric of the walls muffled sounds from the outside, creating a cozy harbor of silence. Shiny copper lamps hung from the tent supports, emitting soft glowing light. The floor was covered with rich carpets and strewn with gaily colored pillows. Every space and corner was filled with fabulous treasure: translucent jade statues, chests filled with shimmering gold coins, fans made of iridescent peacock feathers.

  Before Ulrika could speak, Sebastianus took her into his arms and kissed her hard on the lips. Her arms immediately circled his neck, to pull him against her. She kissed him back in sudden hunger.

  He drew back and cupped her face in his hands. "I have so many things to tell you, and I have so many questions to ask you. But all I care about right now is this moment, being with you. I have dreamed of you ..." He bent his head and kissed her again, tenderly this time, and slowly. Ulrika delivered herself to the love and sweet sensation, tears in her eyes.

  When he drew back a second time, Sebastianus said, "In Antioch I was not a free man, Ulrika, I was not free to love you. As a member of my caravan, you were in my charge, and I have never taken advantage of that sacred trust. And also, I had to go to China. You, too, had to follow another path. Tell me, Ulrika, did you find all that you sought?"

  "I did," she said, watching his lips as he spoke, wanting to kiss them, to press her mouth to his and never let go. "Was China magical, Sebastianus?"

  "It was, and now I seek another kind of magic. Will you marry me, Ulrika? Will you come to Rome with me and be my wife?"

  "Yes, oh yes."

  Sebastianus solemnly stepped away from Ulrika and with great ceremony removed an iron ring from the little finger of his right hand. Slipping it onto the third finger of Ulrika's left hand, he softly recited the traditional Roman marriage vow: "I give you power over my hearth, power over the fire, and water in my house."

  Ulrika replied: "Where you are master, I am mistress."

  Sebastianus took her face in his hands again and kissed her gently. "Now you are my wife, and I am your husband. Tomorrow, we will go to the office of municipal records and register our marriage."

  Ulrika closed her eyes. How she wished her mother were here to share in her joy. Ulrika knew that Selene would embrace her new son-in-law with love.

  His voice then grew husky as he said, "By the stars, Ulrika, you transport me. You are magic. Are you even real, I wonder?"

  "I am real, Sebastianus," she whispered, lifting her face to his.

  He reached up and loosened her hair, drawing cascades of honey-colored tresses over her shoulders and breast. He bent his head and kissed her. Ulrika curled her arms around his neck. The kiss grew urgent. Their passion flared. Words tumbled out between desperate kisses, hurriedly whispered: "Love ... need ... desire ... yes ... yes ..."

  The cosmos shifted and sighed. Reality changed. The old world disappeared and a new one was created as Ulrika and Sebastianus explored each other's bodies, discovering exciting hills and valleys. Ulrika opened herself to him. He possessed her completely. The scarlet tent with the snapping gold pennants embraced the lovers as they embraced each other, and kept them safe.

  SEBASTIANUS AWOKE AND LIFTED himself up on an elbow to watch Ulrika as she slept. When he touched a fingertip to her cheek, to softly trace the line of her jaw, her eyes fluttered open. She smiled.

  He kissed her, sweetly and lingeringly, and then he said, "Tell me about Persia."

  Ulrika recounted her experience in Shalamandar, the meditation that had revealed the crystal pools, the visit from Gaia, while Sebastianus listened in interest. "I think now that I was never meant to reach my father's people in time to warn them of Vatinius's attack, for I see now the futility of such a plan. My journey to the Rhineland was the Goddess's way of setting me free. I had felt bound by invisible ties to a land that was not part of my destiny."

  She stroked his stubble-covered jaw. "Gaia also told me that it is my destiny to find the Venerable Ones. But I have been searching for five years and have yet to even know who they are."

  Sebastianus laid a hand on her cheek. "I must depart as soon as possible for Rome. Can you search for them there?"

  "I will search the world if I must."

  He smiled. "Then I will help you, for I too am destined to travel the world."

  Sebastianus cradled her in his arms then, drawing her to his warmth, while Ulrika relished the feel of his skin against hers, marveling at the power of the masculine body that held her and made her feel safe. As she listened to the reassuring beating of his heart, she listened to an amazing story of brave men crossing deserts and mountains, fighting for their lives, meeting a whole new race for the first time. He filled her mind with beautiful images as she tried to imagine Chinese women, whom she thought must be like butterflies.

  "My dream to open a safe route to China route was indeed a success," he murmured as his fingers explored her curved back and delicate shoulder blades. "In Rome I will start planning the next phases of the Gallus caravan trade, sign contracts with importers and exporters, and expand the family business. I will make the name of Gallus known to the far-flung ends of the earth." He paused to kiss her hair, and inhale its fragrance. And then he said, "And you will be at my side. Together we will find Gaia's Venerable Ones."

  "Will you not go home to your beloved Galicia, to your sisters and their families?"

  "Perhaps, but my success in reaching China has only made me hunger for more. My heart is divided, Ulrika, except when I am with you, for never have I felt so complete as I do now."

  When she trembled in his arms, from excitement, he knew, and desire, he recalled a ceramic he had found in
China, manufactured only there. The clay was fired at extremely high temperatures, creating the formation of glass and other shiny minerals. Sebastianus could not pronounce the Chinese name, so he called it porcellana, as it resembled the translucent surface of cowrie shell. And he thought now: it is like Ulrika—strong, shining, beautiful.

  She lifted her face and said softly, "And what about the astrologers in China?"

  He stroked her hair, her neck, ran his hand down her bare arm, and drew her more tightly to himself. Ulrika was strong and confident, yet she seemed so vulnerable in his arms. He shook with desire. "I met with them and learned from them. Ulrika, there are many gods and spirits in China, every pond, every tree, even every kitchen has its own god. I cannot begin to name even a few. But the one thing that is the same from Rome to Luoyang is the cosmos. The same stars that shine down on the Tiber River, that shine here over the Euphrates, glitter upon the surface of the Luo. This brought me great comfort while I was in a strange land. And because they are the same everywhere, they are the one constant in the universe, I believe more than ever that the stars guide our lives. They advise us and warn us. They bring us good fortune and keep us from harm. The stars hold messages from the gods. Never have I had such faith in the heavens as I do now.

  "Chinese astrologers are men of keen intelligence and insight. I spent many hours conferring with them, and I have brought back charts, instruments, devices for observation and calculation, ancient and arcane equations. I am going to take it all to the observatory in Alexandria, where the greatest astronomers in the world study the heavens, and I know they can put it all together and uncover the secrets to the meaning of life."

  Night had fallen but Sebastianus did not light more lamps. There was food in the tent—dates and nuts, pomegranates and rice wine—but the lovers were not hungry. Sebastianus cradled Ulrika in his arms as they lay beneath silken sheets. If the ordinary world outside continued to exist, if Babylon was still there, they neither knew nor cared. Sebastianus placed his hand on her breast, felt her heart beating beneath the silken skin. "Ulrika, you are my horizon in the morning, my oasis at sunset. You are the moon glow that lights my way, the sweet dawn that ends my troubled sleep."

  They reached for each other again, and this time the embrace went beyond physical. It was the entwining of two souls. Ulrika held tightly to Sebastianus and felt his spirit engulf her in perfection and joy. She inhaled his masculine scent, buried her face in the hard muscles of his shoulder and neck, delivered herself into his power and wanted to stay there forever. He could not have held her more tightly. She could hardly breathe except to whisper "Sebastianus," with a sigh that came from her heart.

  Sebastianus nearly wept with happiness when he heard his name whispered on her warm breath. He tightened his embrace, fearful he might break her, but he felt her strong muscles and bones, as strong as her indomitable spirit. She wrapped her thighs around him as he penetrated deeper, wishing he could send his entire body into her, to be held safely and in love by this astonishing woman.

  "I love you," they murmured to each other, inadequate words barely expressing the depth of their mutual devotion.

  Finally they slept, intertwined in each other's arms, comforted by the warmth and feel of each other's nakedness.

  "WHERE IS SEBASTIANUS GALLUS?" Quintus Publius barked when Primo came into the atrium. The hour was late. Publius had just sent off the last of his dinner guests.

  Primo did not want to face this man with a thunderous expression on his face, his white toga with a purple border a reminder of his power. Publius was the Roman ambassador to the Persian province of Babylon, and a personal friend of Nero Caesar. Primo had put off reporting to Publius in the hope that Sebastianus would come to his senses and pay a visit to the ambassador at his villa west of the city.

  But Sebastianus had returned to the caravan with the girl in tow, they had gone into his tent and now, hours later, had yet to emerge.

  This was Primo's second summons to the ambassador's residence this week. Primo knew it was about a special dispatch Publius had received by imperial courier directly from Nero himself, demanding a report on the progress of the much-awaited caravan from China.

  Primo mustered a civil attitude as he said, "My master was detained in the city on urgent business, sire, and he should be—"

  "Never mind that!" Quintus Publius barked, his face red with fury. "I gave him specific orders to leave Babylon three weeks ago! Why is he still here?"

  Primo thought quickly and came up with a plausible lie. "There was sickness among the women," he said, referring to a group of Chinese concubines in the caravan, a gift from Emperor Ming of Han to the emperor of Rome. They were as pretty as a garden filled with flowers, their faces white with rice powder. Primo wondered what Nero would think of them.

  It was well known that Nero Caesar needed the financial capital to keep his empire going. Primo had heard tales from travelers of unrest cropping up in the many provinces. Judea, for example, where restless young Israelites were said to be fomenting revolution to gain back their autonomy. In response, Caesar was sending more legions. The Jews called it oppression, the Romans called it restoring order. But Primo had also heard that Nero's extravagant spending was not only on the army but on new buildings in the city of Rome, fabulous homes and palaces and fountains and avenues, all unnecessary and all very costly to build. Nero was bankrupting the Imperial Treasury, it was rumored, and he was desperate for sources of revenue.

  What could Caesar create, Primo thought, with Sebastianus's fabulous treasure from China?

  Primo knew that once Nero received Quintus Publius's report on Sebastianus Gallus's unbelievably rich caravan, the emperor would demand to see it at once, and confiscate it, as was his right as patron of the mission to China.

  Primo wished the expedition had been a miserable failure. That way, his master could languish in Babylon for eternity, for all Nero would care. Because now Primo was presented with a dilemma: Obey his emperor and betray his master, or serve his master and disobey the emperor. The first would result in his master's execution, the second, his own. Primo's mouth filled with a bitter taste. He did not like this spy business. Even though he had nothing negative to report on Sebastianus, he still felt like a traitor.

  "My master made many new alliances for Rome with foreign kingdoms," Primo reminded him, hoping to placate the bilious ambassador, and thinking of the report Quintus was going to dispatch to Nero by swift imperial courier. "Many of those backward tribes are so primitive, all one has to do is eat their bread, or in the farther east, share their rice, and the friendship is sealed." He did not add: the poor fools pressed their greasy thumbs to whatever document Sebastianus placed before them, and grinned with self-satisfaction to think of themselves as the equal of the greatest ruler on earth. They do not yet know of the pompous emissaries who will soon be paying visits, informing them of their duty to pay to Rome a ten percent levy on all goods that pass through their customs houses.

  Primo rubbed his scarred nose. It was one of many cicatrices that decorated his soldier's body, each a memento from a long-ago battle. Primo knew he was an oddity himself, like the Chinese concubines, for it was unusual that a veteran of foreign campaigns should live to such an age. But although he was now sixty and had lost most of his hair, he still had all his teeth and was robust.

  "Where did you say your master was?" Publius barked.

  "On business in the city," Primo said.

  Although the word treason had not been spoken, it hung in the air all the same. Everyone knew about Nero's marriage, two years prior, to a scheming spider named Poppaea Sabina, a greedy and ambitious woman with an insatiable appetite for amusements. It could be no coincidence that shortly after, Nero revived the ancient laws governing treason in order to fill the Great Circus with entertaining executions. Men were being arrested on the flimsiest of invented crimes, and thrown to lions in the arena.

  Could his master's delay in Babylon be considered treasonous? Aft
er all, Sebastianus carried goods that were the personal property of Emperor Nero. He was duty-bound to get that property to Rome as quickly as possible. And yet he had tarried in Babylon. Because of a woman!

  "Is there anything you wish me to report to my master?" Primo asked.

  "Your master is not the only reason I sent for you," Quintus said as he reached inside the folds of his toga. He paused to study Primo's disfigured face. "Are you a loyal citizen, Primo Fidus?"

  Primo was taken aback to hear his real name spoken out loud. How had Quintus found it out? And his use of it now gave Primo a strange chill. "I am a loyal citizen and a loyal soldier. I place my honor before my life."

  Quintus produced a scroll bearing the clay seal of Caesar himself. "These are your new orders. They are secret. Keep that in mind."

  Primo looked warily at the scroll. "New orders?" he said.

  "This document grants you the authority, Primo Fidus, to take charge of the caravan, to arrest Sebastianus Gallus, hold him in military custody, and bring him to Rome for trial."

  "Arrest him! On what charges?" Primo asked, already knowing, and dreading the answer.

  "Treason," Quintus said crisply. "All goods contained in the Gallus caravan are the property of the emperor of Rome. By withholding those goods from Caesar, your master is in effect stealing, which is a crime of treason." He slapped the scroll against Primo's broad chest. "If you do not convince your master to depart Babylon at once, then pray that his execution is a swift one."

  Primo looked at the scroll as if it were a scorpion.