by T. A. Uner
“I’m not a bloody Medicus,” she said.
“Now you are,” Tullus replied, “do your best.”
Kiria scowled before Robarius handed her the cloth bandages. She wrapped the wound carefully as the blood soaked through the first layer of cloth. Robarius handed her more bandages to wrap the ankle until the blood flow was arrested. Satisfied with their efforts Tullus turned his attention back to questioning Spearthrower.
“Tell me more about these ‘many lucrative businesses.’”
“Water…please…I need water,” Spearthrower pleaded as he squirmed on the floor like an earthworm exposed to sunlight.
“You’ll get water after you answer my question.”
Spearthrower’s eyes became vicious little slits as they studied Tullus. “Well, recently he took in over two hundred slaves from Ostia Antica. He plans to sell them and collect a massive profit. Now, I beg you stranger…water.”
“Give him water,” Tullus said. Robarius brought over a pitcher sitting atop a dresser and poured Spearthrower a cup. Spearthrower drank the water greedily and belched before handing the cup back at Robarius, who poured him more water.
“Where can I find these slaves?”
Spearthrower drank his second cup, lines of water trickled down his chin. “Scorpio runs a slave camp in the forest outside Rome. It is said the slaves will be taken there and sold to a wealthy buyer. That is all I know, stranger.”
“Now answer one more question and perhaps I shall spare your miserable life.”
Kletus Spearthrower grumbled and looked up at Tullus through defeated eyes.
“I heard Scorpio is looking for a man, someone who once served alongside Tacfarinas. What do you know of this person?”
Kletus looked perturbed by Tullus’ question. His eyes shifted fearfully from Tullus to Celestra. He tried rising to his feet before Tullus slammed his foot into Spearthrower’s’ mouth. Spearthrower spit out three teeth and a string of bloody slaver.
“Spearthrower,” Tullus growled.
“The man you speak of is dead.”
“How?”
“Camus spotted him on the streets the other day. The old man initially eluded them but later one of the footmen found him and accidentally wounded him. I swear that’s all I know.”
“That would explain how Paullus was wounded,” Tullus said. Yes. It all makes sense now. Camus Scorpio, you have made a grave mistake.
Spearthrower attempted to rise from the floor again but instead cursed his wound before Robarius and Kiria helped him up. They laid him out on the bed before he raised his head and shot Tullus a confounded look.
“What is your business with Camus Scorpio, stranger?”
“Justice,” Tullus replied. “Tell Scorpio, he has made an enemy of the Leopard King and his Troupe; and soon, he will answer for the murder of Paullus Gabinius.”
{VI}
Eliana was not looking forward to the banquet. But her mother, Adolpha, beamed with delight while fussing over every detail to make sure that everything ran smoothly. House slaves hustled around the kitchen preparing food, while others were busy organizing a lavish table where Norbanus would be hosted.
Up in her room, in the company of Sylvia, Eliana was getting dressed in a long, sleeveless gown made from the finest linens. It was dyed emerald green with golden embroidery lining the low-cut bodice. One of her female servants applied perfume to her wrists and neck while another servant girl applied cosmetics to her eyelids and cheekbones. A golden necklace, matching hoop earrings, and a golden armlet inlaid with rubies and sapphires, were applied to her neck, ears and arm. Despite her enthralling appearance, Eliana felt a wound festering in her heart—the memory of Tullus’ distant behavior at the marketplace dominated her thoughts.
“Eliana darling you look magnificent,” Sylvia exclaimed. “It would be impossible for Tribune Norbanus to resist your charms.”
Eliana looked into the mirror and sighed while her sister placed her hands on Eliana’s shoulders. “What is wrong little sister?”
“I saw Tullus the other day in the Forum marketplace,” Eliana said, trying her best to fight back tears that were welling up in her eyes.
“That Praetorian Guardsman who courted you months ago? I thought he left Rome?”
“I thought so too, but he has returned.”
Sylvia hugged her sister before meeting Eliana’s eyes. “My young, foolish child. Do not risk a future with a Tribune, over a petty, childish infatuation.” Eliana bristled at her sister’s harsh words. I wonder if Sylvia would still think that way if she knew Tullus had saved her in the forest.
Trying best to compose herself, Eliana took deep breaths and exhaled until she felt better. “The problem is…I still love him.”
Sylvia sighed and shook her head. “Mother and father are going through great expense to entertain the Tribune this evening. Do not spoil their efforts because of your childish obsession over a man who obviously didn’t love you enough to remain in Rome.”
“I wish you wouldn’t talk like that,” Eliana replied angrily as she looked into the mirror again, black eyeliner streaked down her cheeks.
“Think about what you are saying,” Sylvia said sternly while two slaves fixed Eliana’s cosmetics, “Norbanus comes from a powerful family.”
“A disgraced, powerful family,” Eliana added.
Sylvia shook her head defiantly. “That happened years ago, and has mostly been forgotten, except by fossilized historians and tired sages. Norbanus is nothing like his uncle.”
“Very well, for mother and father’s sake I will act my part as a young lady of the Clodius brood, but I cannot guarantee anything more than that dear sister.”
Sylvia smiled. But Eliana knew that the young, arrogant Norbanus would never replace the special place in her heart which belonged to Tullus. Eliana descended the staircase that led to the atrium, and laid eyes on the exquisite dinner table set for six people: her father Senator Remus and her mother Adolpha; Sylvia and her husband Pontius Rufus, and one for herself, and Norbanus. Norbanus was talking to Pontius and her father at the far end of the atrium while a harpist played a melodic tune in the background. Norbanus looked at her with his cunning eyes and smiled. He stood dressed in an exquisite white toga.
“Lady Eliana it is a pleasure to see you again,” Norbanus said as she reluctantly extended her hand toward him. He kissed it graciously and she nodded politely. Norbanus turned to Sylvia and bowed his head respectfully. “I see that beauty runs deep in the Clodius family.”
Sylvia giggled like a small child. “Why Tribune, your golden tongue complements your handsome appearance,” she said as he kissed her hand.
“A necessary requirement in my occupation,” Norbanus replied with a smile.
Adolpha’s arrival forced Norbanus to excuse himself so that he could greet her. Eliana was relieved, she didn’t want to spend any more time than necessary around the presumptuous Tribune. Senator Remus indicated that dinner would commence and everyone made their way to the table. Much to Eliana’s disappointment, she found herself sitting next to Norbanus, who shot her oily side glances, causing her to smile nervously in response.
The first course of the meal was promptly served as slaves placed lavish silver platters in front of the diners. Eliana gazed upon the cooked clams, mussels and assorted small fish that glistened scrumptiously at her. Other food items were also brought: olives, zucchini, carrots, and celery dipped in vinegar; lentils, cooked boletus mushrooms and truffles dipped in honey. While everyone picked the foods that were placed closest to them, slaves were on hand to extend platters to those who desired a delicacy out of reach. Despite her famished state, Eliana ate slowly and made small talk with her brother-in-law and the other guests while Norbanus boasted of his past experiences, and spoke of his father’s illustrious position as governor of Lusitania.
“Father wants me to take over, after his term is up, but I have told him that I would much prefer a Consulship here in Rome,” Norbanus said.
“How
wonderful, Tribune Norbanus,” Adolpha said. The other guests nodded politely.
Eliana felt like yawning as Norbanus boasted about his family’s bloodlines and past honors. She wondered how one person could be so vainglorious, and it reminded her of the past courtiers she had met through her parents’ insistence.
The second course arrived: Roasted pig was brought before them, its mouth stuffed with a shiny red apple. When the pig was cut steaming sausages spilled out of its innards, much to the delight of the guests. Capon seasoned with spices and baked goatfish sprinkled in pepper sauce soon followed. Pontius Rufus stared greedily at the food and stuffed slices of pork into his mouth before licking his greasy fingers, much to Sylvia’s displeasure.
Afterwards desert arrived: bowls of fresh fruit, dried fruit candies, nuts; and generous portions of savillum–Roman cheesecake topped with honey and sprinkled with poppy seeds.
Senator Remus rose from his seat and everyone paused eating to listen. “I am very happy to share this table with such esteemed company, but I also wanted to announce the betrothal of my beloved daughter, Eliana, to Norbanus Forticus Blandus.” He raised his wine glass while everyone except Eliana copied, “The union between our two families shall strengthen through the everlasting bond of these two young people.”
Eliana dropped her fork and looked at her father in disgust. Her heart felt like bursting. Betrothal to Norbanus? Why hadn’t her father consulted her on this? She knew the answer, of course: he knew that she would oppose his wishes, therefore he had conspired behind her back. She feared something like this might happen. As head of the family her father had the right to marry her off to any man of his choosing, but for Eliana, the thought of marrying Norbanus was repugnant.
“Father,” she said calmly, trying to maintain her composure, “why wasn’t I imparted of this betrothal?”
Remus took a sip of wine. “Please, Eliana, let us discuss the details of your betrothal after dinner.”
“But I wish to discuss it now,” she said as all eyes at the table shifted toward her. Eliana didn’t care what they thought of her–they weren’t the ones forced to marry Norbanus.
Norbanus placed his hand on Eliana’s thigh and she almost jolted out of her seat. “Please, beloved,” he said, “do not make it difficult for your father. I assure you, after we’re married you will eventually come to appreciate me.”
“I would sooner marry a maggot,” Eliana said. She lifted her goblet and splashed wine in Norbanus’ face. “Don’t you ever touch me again, you swine,” she said, storming out of the room, tears streaking down her cheeks. She ran through the atrium and hurried toward the courtyard where she found a bench. The sweet smell of flowers danced across her nostrils as a quarter moon stared down at her from a dark clouded sky. Burying her face in her palms she cried harder than she could remember. Moments later, she felt warm fingertips glide across her neck. At first she thought it was Norbanus, but when she looked up she was staring into the face of her mother.
“Mother leave me alone,” Eliana said. Adolpha descended onto the bench and wrapped her arm around her daughter. Eliana felt the warmth of Adolpha’s maternal touch, and slowly her sobs receded.
“I know how you feel, my child.”
“Mother please don’t patronize me. Father planned this without telling me. I know it is his right, but he promised me I would have a say in the man I chose to marry.”
Adolpha’s hazel eyes looked compassionately at her daughter and Eliana had a feeling her mother understood her situation. “I was betrothed to your father at a younger age than you, my sweet girl; you will learn to love the Tribune, someday.”
A fresh set of tears coruscated on Eliana’s cheeks before Adolpha wiped them away.
“Sylvia said the same thing once. But I still love Tullus, mother. How can I forget the man I truly love?”
“You cannot, my dear Eliana,” Adolpha said, “but the passage of time sometimes tempers the pain.”
Her mother’s advice did little to soothe Eliana’s conscience. Instead, she wished that Tullus was here, holding her in his arms.
{VII}
Yeshiva’s storehouse was no more than a large shack located adjacent to Ostia Antica’s quay. It’s convenient location made transport of goods easier. And its drab appearance enabled it to escape the roving eyes of Camus Scorpio’s footmen.
The smell of wool and sheepskin permeated throughout the old wooden structure, but Eliana had grown accustomed to it. The pain in her heart had eased since her unexpected betrothal to Norbanus.
Much to Norbanus’ credit he had not forced her to immediately move into his villa as custom dictated. For that she was grateful, but eventually, she would have to succumb to the inevitable and live with him.
“Is something troubling you my dear?”
Eliana turned around to face Yeshiva, who stood on the wooden platform from where they would address the merchants. An earnest smile broke through his shaggy black beard. She smiled back at the merchant who had become her friend and compatriot in their struggle against Camus Scorpio.
“I was thinking about my life and what the future holds.”
The merchant took her hands in his and squeezed them gently. “None of us can know what tomorrow brings,” Yeshiva said, “But if there’s anything I can do to help, all you have to do is ask.”
“You’re very kind Yeshiva, but really, I’m fine; how many merchants do you estimate will come tonight?”
Yeshiva released her hands. “I’m expecting more than last time. Word is spreading fast. I’m sure more merchants will want to listen to the words of Eliana Clodia: the canny daughter of Senator Remus.”
Eliana smiled and for the first time since her unfathomable betrothal she felt warmth in her heart that has been buried by the sadness her father had brought upon her. “Here come the first of them now,” Eliana said, gesturing toward the entrance. The door to the storehouse opened and three merchants rambled in. Eliana recognized them: the Baker Margus, a spindly man with thin hair, who waved at Eliana and Yeshiva; he was followed by the Fuller Ostius, grey-eyed with wavy blonde hair who bowed his head respectfully at Eliana and Yeshiva; the last of the three men was the Fisherman Brandis, a tall man with large hands who towered over the other two merchants. He flashed a wry smile at Eliana and Yeshiva before scratching his head where long, matted hair dangled from his scalp. The three merchants seated themselves on wooden chairs placed under makeshift benches across from the platform where Eliana and Yeshiva stood. Soon the rest of the merchants started filing in: Filius the blacksmith, his hand still bandaged, seated himself next to Brandis and the others. Poxius the soothsayer, Leticia the weaver and her daughter Marbellus, Morphius the potter and his boy apprentice Julio, Julius Pentharus the glassblower, Varlus the painter, Worlius the musician and his ever-present flute; Uxius the tailor and two of his apprentices (both his daughters), and Mattius Nomlar, a burly man with a bursting belly and thick arms who was the tavern keeper of Ostia Antica’s busiest tavern, The Salty Wench. Dozens more followed and the ones who couldn’t find seats stood huddled together at the back of the storehouse, surrounded by stacked sheepskin and folded mounds of wool.
For the benefit of the merchants, Yeshiva had laid out various fruits on top of the benches: fresh apples, sliced peaches, breads and kosher meats on platters which the merchants tucked into hungrily. Mattius Nomlar let out a shrill whistle and four of his servers appeared through the door carrying two barrels full of mead, while another server carried a wool bag full of tankards, which he handed out to everyone in attendance. After their small feast, everyone was in better spirits, with mead in their tankards and food in their bellies.
“Thank you all for coming,” Eliana said as the inaudible chattering from the merchants deceased. “Tonight we will discuss our latest course of action against Camus Scorpio.”
Morphius the potter stood up from his seat. “Dear lady, so far all we’ve been doing is discussing what we’re going to do, but when are we going
to actually do something?” he asked sharply.
Mattius Nomlar stood up and stared caustically at Morphius. “Don’t get pushy with the lady, Morphius, or I’ll flatten you under my boot.” Morphius reluctantly seated himself but not without muttering a few curses under his breath.
“It is all right Mattius,” Eliana said. The tavern keeper bowed his head respectfully at her. “Morphius has a valid point, but rest assured, tonight we shall discuss a plan that will enable the power of Roman law to work for us.”
“Roman law cannot save you because Rome is corrupt with disease,” said a man’s voice. It resonated like a battle cry throughout the storeroom. Everyone’s eyes turned to a man standing atop a crate near one of the warehouse’s high windows. Eliana’s heart leaped in her chest as she noticed Tullus, dressed in his Leopard king costume, his face half-hidden by the Leopard-print scarf. Moments later Celestra appeared next to him. She landed on the wooden platform and growled while the seated merchants stood and muttered anxiously amongst themselves.
Eliana approached the stack of crates where Tullus stood. “If Roman law is corrupt, what can you offer these men and women who have risked much to free themselves from the tyranny of Camus Scorpio?”
Tullus leaped from the top crate and landed on the platform.
“I offer them my sword, and the support of my Troupe.” Celestra growled at Tullus, who chuckled. “And, of course the strength of Celestra the Leopardess.”
“How did you find us?” Eliana asked.
Tullus walked toward her and his eloquent gait made Eliana yearn for the days when she walked alongside him as his woman. “Why, I was invited here, by none other than my good friend Yeshiva.”
Eliana turned to Yeshiva who looked abashed. “Is this true, Yeshiva?”
“Please forgive me, Lady Eliana, for not consulting you, but yes, I did invite him,” Yeshiva replied. “But please, I beg you, hear what he has to say; he also shares grievance with Camus Scorpio.”
“What grievance do you have with Camus Scorpio, stranger?” called out one of the merchants in the back row.