Flavia giggled and reached up to touch one of Cartilia’s silver earrings; it was a pendant shaped like a tiny club of Hercules.
Then she remembered something: ‘But someone said it was your fault your husband died.’
‘Who?’
‘Diomedes, the priest of Mithras. Actually I think his exact words were “He’s not with us anymore and it’s her fault.”’
‘Oh, that silly cult. I talked Postumus out of attending. All they wanted was his money.’
‘But later he divorced you because you were too independent, and because you couldn’t have children?’
Cartilia nodded. ‘But he’s just divorced his second wife for the same reason. So the fault may not be mine. As for my being too independent,’ she dropped her voice to a whisper. ‘I think your father likes independent women. The key is being subtle about it. And gracious. If you are those things I don’t think he’ll mind your independence.’
‘Cartilia?’ Flavia stopped toying with her earring.
‘Yes?’
‘Tomorrow is a special day in Miriam’s wedding preparation. They call it the day of henna. Jonathan says all the women in her family go and they tell stories and play music while they put henna designs on Miriam’s hands and feet. It’s at her aunt’s house and she’s invited Nubia and me and . . . will you come with us? We’re going about midday.’
‘Oh, Flavia! I’d love to. Thank you so much for asking me.’ Cartilia bent down and kissed Flavia’s forehead and gave her a hug.
Presently she stood up and started out of the room. Then she stopped and turned and Flavia saw her slender silhouette against the pale rectangle of the doorway.
‘Flavia. I know it’s always hard to share a parent, especially if you’re an only child. Thank you for sharing your father with me. I promise I’ll make him very happy. And I’ll try to make you happy, too.’
‘I know,’ said Flavia, and she smiled. ‘Goodnight, Cartilia.’
Something was wrong.
Flavia’s step quickened as she and Nubia approached Cartilia’s house. The front door was wide open and Vibia stood weeping before a bald man in a toga. He was shaking his head and as they drew closer they saw that Vibia was not wearing her wig.
‘Oh Flavia!’ Vibia turned her tear-stained face towards the two girls. ‘Tell your father to make an offering to the gods and come quickly. Cartilia and Diana, and my husband . . . They’ve all come down with fever and the doctor says it’s very grave.’
Doctor Mordecai confirmed what the Greek doctor had said.
‘This second wave of fever is worse than the first,’ he said grimly. ‘I’ve lost half a dozen patients in the last two days, four of them little children. I’ve treated Poplicola and his daughters. The best thing you can do now is make sure they drink plenty of broth and keep them covered. They need to sweat out the evil humours.’
Flavia and Nubia and Marcus stayed at Vibia’s for three days. They helped her tend Cartilia and Diana, while she nursed her husband.
Presently Diana recovered and was able to sit up and take some solid food. But Cartilia’s father died, and she herself slipped deeper into a fevered sleep. Now she could not even drink the broth. Her lips were blue and sometimes she fought for breath.
Once, when Flavia was sitting with her, she called out names in her delirium. First she cried out for her mother, then she called the name Marcus.
Flavia took Cartilia’s hands and said, ‘He’ll be back, soon. Cartilia. He’s just tired because he sat up with you all last night. He’s having a little rest.’ She felt the tears coming. ‘Don’t die, Cartilia,’ she pleaded. ‘Please get better. Pater loves you very much.’
Cartilia turned her head and though her eyes didn’t open she seemed calmer.
Flavia pressed a cool cloth to her forehead and said, ‘If you get better you can teach me more dances. And other things. Girl things.’ Flavia tried to make her voice bright but the tears were spilling out now. ‘Cartilia, I’m so sorry I was horrible to you. Please don’t die. Pater needs you. And . . . I need you, too.’
Flavia had just finished dressing when she heard the front door close. She hurried downstairs to find her father in the atrium, standing before the lararium. He still wore his cloak and his boots were muddy. He turned as he heard her step, and the look of bleak despair on his face told her everything: Cartilia was dead.
‘Oh, pater!’ she cried, and ran to him. They held each other tightly and wept, standing there in the cold atrium before the household shrine.
Presently Flavia lifted her tear-streaked face.
‘Pater, I know nothing will make it better but I promise I’ll be good from now on. I’ll never solve a mystery again and I’ll stay inside and weave wool all day.’
‘No.’ He shook his head and looked at her through his tears. ‘I loved Cartilia because she had spirit and intelligence.’ He looked at the lararium. ‘Your mother had it, too, Flavia. A passion for life and a deep curiosity about the world. That’s what I loved most about her. And about Cartilia.’ He looked at Flavia. ‘And that’s what I love about you. Don’t ever lose your hunger for knowledge.’
‘Then I can still be a detective?’
He nodded. ‘Yes, my little owl. Just . . . be sensible.’ He hugged her again and murmured into her hair. ‘You’re all I have left now.’
‘I’ll be sensible,’ said Flavia. She felt the soft wool of his tunic brush her cheek as she turned to look at the household shrine. The ancestral masks were shut away but she could see the painted figures representing the genius of the Geminus household, and the lares on either side. And the good luck snake, coiling at the feet of Castor and Pollux and Vesta.
Flavia swallowed and stepped out of her father’s arms so that she could look up into his face.
‘Pater,’ she said. ‘Pater, I promise that I’ll become a pious Roman matron and I’ll have lots of children and then our family spirits won’t be sad. And I promise . . .’ Flavia took a deep breath: ‘Pater, I promise I’ll marry whoever you think best.’
The marriage took place seven days later.
The wedding procession was unlike any Ostia had ever seen before.
The young bride wore a white robe, a saffron yellow cloak and a veil of bright orange. On her head was a garland of myrtle and winter violets. The town of Ostia was clothed in white, too, for it had snowed the night before. And as the bride emerged from the house after the wedding feast, the orange sun came out from its gauzy veil of high cloud. The snow sparkled like marble and the lion-head drains wore icicle beards.
A black-maned lion named Monobaz led the procession and a long-lashed camelopard took up the rear. The beautiful Jewish bride and her handsome groom rode in a chariot pulled by two donkeys. Although dusk was still an hour away, Jonathan and Lupus held smoking torches, while Flavia and Nubia scattered nuts to the people lining the streets. Hired musicians played double flutes, lyre and tambourine, and the procession grew in number as they approached the Laurentum Gate.
Nubia wore her new fur cloak – a lion skin. It had been a gift from Mnason; the skin had belonged to one of his old lions. The combination of fur cloak and fur-lined boots meant that for the first time that winter Nubia felt warm outside the baths. When her nuts had all been scattered, she walked beside Monobaz and played her flute. The fresh clean scent of snow filled her head and she felt it scrunch under her leather boots.
As they passed under the arch of the Laurentum Gate, a new song came to her. It was a song about starting over, when everything is pure and fresh and clean. Nubia decided to call it ‘Land of White’.
The wedding procession passed through the gate and made its way along the Laurentum Road.
The hired musicians had been playing a jolly, rather shrill air on their double flutes and lyre. But Nubia’s flute was playing a new song now and the hired flutes wavered. Lupus handed his smoking torch to Chamat and started beating his drum. Jonathan gave away his torch, too, and swung his barbiton to the front of his
body. Together, they made the beat harder and stronger. The flute-players struggled to keep up. Aristo hadn’t brought his lyre, so he grabbed that of the lead musician who stared open-mouthed. Following his example, Flavia took the tambourine from another of the musicians.
It was a wonderful song that Flavia and her friends were playing now: a song of joyful hope with a driving beat.
As the procession moved on through the tombs, Flavia shook her tambourine and danced for Cartilia. She danced her regret for what would never be. For the laughter the two of them would never know. For the music Cartilia would never play. For the stories Cartilia would never hear. Or tell.
And when they left the tombs behind and moved between the woods and sea, towards the little house waiting in its snow-dusted vineyard, Flavia danced her joy of the family and friends who still remained. Her cheeks were wet but even as she wept, she smiled. Because although she grieved, she was alive. And that was a good thing.
Yes. It was very good to be alive.
FINIS
Aeneas (uh-nee-uss)
Trojan son of the goddess Venus, he escaped from conquered Troy to have many adventures and finally settle near the future site of Rome
Aeneid (uh-nee-id)
Virgil’s epic poem about Aeneas
Amphitryon (am-fee-try-on)
mortal father of Hercules (whose real father was supposedly Jupiter)
Apollodorus (uh-pol-uh-dor-uss)
Greek author who wrote an account of the Greek myths
Atalanta (at-uh-lan-ta)
beautiful princess who preferred hunting to marriage and for this reason set impossible tasks for her suitors
atrium (eh-tree-um)
the reception room in larger Roman homes, often with skylight and pool
Augeus (owg-ee-uss)
a mythical Greek king who neglected to clean his stables
barbiton (bar-bi-ton)
a kind of Greek bass lyre, but there is no evidence for a ‘Syrian barbiton’
Bononia (bun-own-ee-uh)
modern Bologna, a town in northeastern Italy
bulla (bull-a)
amulet of leather or metal worn by many free-born children
Calabria (kuh-la-bree-uh)
the region of the ‘toe’ of Italy
caldarium (call-dar-ee-um)
the hot plunge in a Roman baths; usually with a deep round pool of hot water
Campania (kam-pan-yuh)
the region around the Bay of Naples
Castor
one of the famous twins of Greek mythology (Pollux is the other)
Cerberus (sur-bur-uss)
mythological three-headed dog who guards the gates of Hades
Ceres (sear-eez)
known as Demeter in Greek: the goddess of grain, crops and food
Cupid (kyoo-pid)
son of Venus and Vulcan, the winged boy god of love: those struck by his arrows fall in love
Decumanus Maximus (deck-yoo-man-uss max-ee-mus)
originally ‘a camp road’, this was Ostia’s main street
denarii (den-ar-ee)
more than one denarius, a silver coin. A denarius equals four sestercii.
Dionysus (dye-oh-nie-suss)
Greek god of vineyards, wine and madness
divitiae (div-tt-ee-eye)
the Latin word for ‘wealth’
Domitian (duh-mish-an)
the Emperor Titus’s younger brother
duo
Latin for ‘two’
equestrian (uh-kwes-tree-un)
literally ‘horseman’, the social class of wealthy businessmen; to be a member of the equestrian class, you needed property worth at least 400,000 sesterces
Erymanthean (air-im-anth-ee-un)
region of the Erymanthos River in Arcadia, a part of central Greece
euge! (oh-gay)
Latin exclamation: ‘hurray!’
Eurystheus (yur-riss-thoos)
mythological king for whom Hercules had to perform his tasks
Felix
a wealthy patron and poet who lived in Surrentum in the late 1st century AD
forum (for-um)
ancient marketplace and civic centre in Roman towns
frigidarium (frig-id-dar-ee-um)
the cold plunge in a Roman baths
fullers
ancient laundry and clothmakers; they used human urine to bleach the wool
garum (gar-um)
sauce made of fish entrails, extremely popular for seasoning foods
Hades (hay-deez)
the Underworld where the spirits of the dead were believed to go
halva (hal-vuh)
a sweet made of honey and tahini (crushed sesame seeds), often with added pistachio nuts
Hebrew (hee-brew)
holy language of the Old Testament, spoken by (religious) Jews in the 1st century
Hercules (her-kyoo-leez)
mythological hero; he had to complete twelve tasks to atone for killing his family
Hesperides (hes-pair-id-eez)
the daughters of Atlas, who lived in the remote west (modern Morocco)
Hippomenes (hip-pom-men-eez)
mythological hero who beat Atalanta at a race by throwing golden apples
Ides (eyedz)
the thirteenth day of most months in the Roman calendar (including December); in March, July, October and May the Ides occur on the fifteenth day of the month
impluvium (im-ploo-vee-um)
rectangular pool of water under the skylight (compluvium) in the Roman atrium
Juno (jew-no)
queen of the Roman gods, wife of the god Jupiter, and goddess of childbirth
kohl (kole)
dark powder used to darken eyelids or outline eyes
laconicum (luh-cone-i-kum)
the hottest room in the Roman baths, the small laconicum had dry heat
lararium (lar-ar-ee-um)
household shrine, often a chest with a miniature temple on top, sometimes a niche
lares (la-raise)
household guardian spirits; it was the role of the paterfamilias to keep them happy
Laurentum (lore-ent-um)
village on the coast of Italy a few miles south of Ostia
lustratio (lus-tra-tee-oh)
a ritual for purification of houses, ships, etc.
Minerva (min-nerve-uh)
known as Athena in Greek: the virgin goddess of wisdom and war
Mithras (mith-rass)
Persian god of light and truth, his cult – exclusively for men – spread throughout the Roman world after becoming popular with soldiers
mortarium (more-tar-ee-um)
rough flat bowl of clay or stone for grinding food
Nero (near-oh)
wicked Emperor; built the Golden House after the great fire of Rome in AD 64
Ostia (oss-tee-uh)
the port of ancient Rome and home town of Flavia Gemina
palla (pal-uh)
a woman’s cloak, could also be wrapped round the waist or worn over the head
papyrus (puh-pie-russ)
the cheapest writing material, made of Egyptian reeds
paterfamilias (pa-tare fa-mill-ee-us)
father of the household, with absolute control over his children and slaves
peristyle (perry-style)
a columned walkway around an inner garden or courtyard
Pliny (plin-ee)
(the Elder) famous Roman author; died in the eruption of Vesuvius
(the Younger) Pliny the Elder’s nephew, who also became a famous author and statesman
poculum (pock-yoo-lum)
a cup; here a liquid breakfast of spiced wine, milk, barley and cheese
Pollux
one of the famous twins of Greek mythology (Castor is the other)
quattuor
Latin for ‘four’
quinque
Latin for ‘five’
Sabbath (sab-uth)
Th
e Jewish day of rest, counted from Friday evening to Saturday evening
Saturnalia (sat-ur-nail-yuh)
five day festival of Saturn, celebrated by the giving of gifts and relaxation of restrictions about gambling, slaves and masters often traded places for a day
scroll (skrole)
a papyrus or parchment ‘book’, unrolled from side to side as it was read
sestercii (sess-tur-see)
more than one sestercius, a brass coin. Four sestercii equal a denarius
sex
Latin for ‘six’
shalom (shah-lome)
the Hebrew word for ‘peace’; can also mean ‘hello’ or ‘goodbye’
sigillum (sig-ill-um)
a doll of clay or wood, traditionally given on the Saturnalia; plural: sigilla
signet-ring (sig-net-ring)
ring with an image carved in it to be pressed into wax and used as a personal seal
stola (stole-uh)
a dress usually worn by Roman matrons (married women)
strigil (strig-ill)
a blunt-edged, curved tool for scraping off dead skin, oil and dirt at the baths
stylus (stile-us)
a metal, wood or ivory tool for writing on wax tablets
Stymphalian bird (stim-fay-lee-an)
fierce mythical bird with claws and beak of bronze
sudatorium (soo-da-tor-ee-um)
the steam room in a Roman baths; often semi-circular with marble benches
Surrentum (sir-ren-tum)
modern Sorrento, a pretty harbour town south of Vesuvius
tablinum (ta-blee-num)
the study in a Roman house
Tarantella (tare-an-tell-uh)
literally: the little tarantula, a dance to rid the body of poison or passion
tepidarium (tep-id-dar-ee-um)
the warm room in a Roman baths; usually for chatting and relaxing
Thetis (thet-iss)
beautiful sea-nymph, mother of Achilles and foster-mother of Vulcan
Titus (tie-tuss)
son of Vespasian and Emperor of Rome when this story takes place
toga (toe-ga)
a blanket-like outer garment, worn by freeborn men and boys
tres
Latin for ‘three’
triclinium (trick-lin-ee-um)
ancient Roman dining room, usually with three couches to recline on
tunic (tew-nic)
The Roman Mysteries Complete Collection Page 81