by Bilinmeyen
She hummed. “I might go and see an event next week. They have a gladiator fight coming up. There’s one in the theater they named after my former husband. Theater of Marcellus. There’s one in the Circus. I think it has been set up in memory of Drusus, though of course it is some member of the senate hoping to find political position. There will be games and chariots as well. The place is mainly for races. Do you like such things?”
I took a deep breath. “I have not experienced them.”
She gave me a long look over her shoulder, and I shuffled so she would not have to stretch her neck. She was a murderess, and the killer of our kin. Was she playing with the prey she had already tried to kill? Or was it truly Kleitos alone, who tried to solve a problem she needed not know anything about.
She seemed so … normal. She had no fangs, nor did she seem evil.
She was a sad, yet wise, lady, and an interesting, curious person. I struggled to keep my focus. She spoke. “There is …Lugdunum? The town where Drusus held sway. They have a temple, many in fact. And a theater. A cult to my father is active there, and surely there are games? I remember him mentioning games. You never went there?”
“I have been to Moganticum, my lady,” I answered. “We stopped outside of Lugdunum on the way here. I’ve seen the cities we stopped by when we travelled south. I have not had the chance to see any entertainment.”
She laughed softly. “You must see games or a race then. I thought all the Batavi had seen some of Roman entertainment, seeing how Drusus made them his personal clients few years ago. They say they are building an amphitheater in Ara Batavorium. Racetrack as well.”
“I wouldn’t know,” I answered, and bit my lip.
“You are not a Batavi,” she wondered. “Nearly all of the Guard are Ubii and Batavi. There are only seen a few in the past who are different. I’m no expert, but that’s the case, no?”
Father had been one, I thought, and hoped to dissuade her from asking more questions, though was that not exactly what Livia had wanted me to do. To let her know of Father, to intrigue her. Yet, I hesitated. “I’m boring, my lady. A boring warrior of a tiny tribe.”
“You are from over the River?” she asked, and then shook her head. “Of course you are.”
“I am,” I answered.
She indicated the railing next to her. “Unusual for one so far from our lands to know Latin.”
I nodded, mute.
She indicated down to the Circus. “Come, and lean with me. Learn the Palatine. I can show you the buildings. The praetorians guard the hill, but they are lazy and stupid, and so you have to know everything about it. You will be guarding this house every night, right?” He eyes twinkled. “They gave you the worst posting. To guard the wife Tiberius hates every night, until you weep. Sad fate.”
I nodded, tilting to look over the hill. It was dark, of course, and I saw little. I spoke, just to say something. “Night duty until I turn into an owl. I will be here, unless something prevents me from doing so,” I said darkly. “I should have some time to sleep—”
“Tiberius is cruel in small ways, isn’t he?” she said bitterly. She moved closer and put a hand over my wound, which had been sowed expertly by a medicus. Her fingers were warm as she sipped the wine, and then she nodded. “Brave and dangerous. I like the Germani. You give oaths, and you mostly keep them. What oaths have you given?”
Oath Breaker. That’s my name, I thought, and knew I’d be one in the future as well. “I kept my oath to Drusus. I fought for him, well enough.” I looked at her for a reaction. “I failed.” I took a breath, and let Livia’s plan loose. “A Marcomanni called Maroboodus killed him.”
She dropped her goblet. She was shaken. She put a hand on her mouth.
An actor of the first degree, I thought. Bitch.
“Maroboodus?” she whispered. “He …. He killed Drusus?”
“He did,” I said thinly. “I was there. I couldn’t stop that spear.”
She waved her hand around. “Father said Drusus died in an accident, though? That he fell on his leg with a horse on top?” She looked puzzled, but clearly didn’t care for the answer. She raised her hand and stammered, “Did Maroboodus survive?”
Yes, you treacherous liar.
“He did,” I said instead. “Escaped, badly wounded. Lots of Marcomanni fell that day.” A thought slithered to my mind. “I spared his life.”
She took a step forward, her head cocked, and asked the question. “Why?”
“It is not clear to me,” I said miserably. It was not, to be honest. Father had told me I’d be less bitter about my fate, if I knew about his choices in Rome. And there I was, miraculously learning of them. “He had won a great victory. He was, in truth, terribly hurt. Riddled with arrows. He might have died later. But, I doubt it.”
“He was a very strong man,” she said softly.
“You knew him?” I asked, pretending to be surprised.
She kept looking up at me. “Yes. Did you know he guarded me and my children once?”
I shook my head, lying. “He was a Roman, I knew that.” I hesitated. I tried to tell her he was my father, but something else came out. “They spoke of it after the war.”
Get on with it, I cursed myself
She nodded. “He still is. Like you are now, Corvus. Raven.” Her eyes flickered with brief amusement. “You know, he had a son called … it was a terrible, nasty word. Like someone hawking phlegm after bout with fever. Hrabsa?”
“Hraban,” I corrected. Did she know? Did she guess? If she did, what would she do? Livia thought she’d open to me, I thought she’d have me killed.
She looked at me gently, smiling and then over the city. “How life is strange, and the worlds so small. I’ll not ask you more about him now. Nor what he meant to you. Clearly, you were not friends, but knew each other. He left Rome, and escaped to the north with many men and stolen coin, and I will never know why. He had enemies, and he always intended to return home. I wish him well.” Her voice was bitter and hurt.
“Yes, my lady,” I answered, pursing my lips.
“Well,” she said with a small smile and moved from the balcony. “You get to see me eat now. Then I’ll drink, too much, perhaps, and you will guard me, until they figure out you are a fine guard, and I’ll lose you to some more meaningful task. They said your woman is pregnant?”
She had excellent spies, I decided. Some of Livia’s spies might actually be hers.
“My wife is pregnant,” I said, worried.
“I wish you much happiness with your child,” she answered. “Do not abandon your child.”
Like Father had? Though had not Father ridden away to help her kill her foes? She was a confusing woman, and very good at hiding the truth.
She turned to eat, and I, confused, followed her, picked up my shield and spear, enduring her long, measuring looks.
Woden was not making my vengeance easy.
Julia might have guessed my relation to Maroboodus, as Livia wanted. And yet, I felt uneasy. If Kleitos and Antius, and gods knew who else, had warned her about me, she was playing with me. One day, she might lead me to the night, I’d follow, and they’d kill me. It was a dangerous game that would put men into their graves.
I sighed, cursing Woden for making life so complicated.
I liked her.
CHAPTER 10
That next morning, men of the fourth turma arrived at the house. There were three Batavi, and I greeted them as I stood outside, shivering in the moist air. “Long night, citizen?” asked one mischievously, and I nodded. “Not quite what you were promised, eh?” he added.
“Boring, silent, I saw a rat,” I said, and they laughed. I had been spending the night thinking about my dilemmas, and had decided to defy Adalwulf at least in one matter. I’d have a chat with Grim. I pressed my palms to my eyes, and asked them a question. “Is Grim in Palatine? I wanted to have a word with him.”
One shook his head. “He left this morning. I’m not sure where, but they said
he’d be carrying messages. He left after Tiberius. Him and another man.”
He, and the redhead, had been sent away. “I’ll fetch Wandal.”
“He should take a Roman name,” said one, a lanky man. “Easier for the natives, though we mostly call each other by our own names. Is the lady in a good mood?”
“I don’t know about her moods,” I said, “but you’ll learn of it in a bit.”
I opened the door. Inside, Wandal was not half as exhausted as I was. He was speaking softly with an auburn-haired girl, a slave or a servant, dressed in a red tunic. She was serving him bread. No, she was feeding him bread.
“Thank you, my pretty doe,” Wandal was saying, with a leering smile that made me think he meant to devour her after the bread.
“You are so tall, I barely reach your lips,” the girl said in a Germani. “You want more wine?”
“More wine?” I growled, and the girl nearly dropped the decanter she was carrying. “And why are you eating while I starve?”
Wandal glowered at me. “I’m eating because she likes me. If she liked you, she would have brought you something, but no, she is here with me.”
The girl took a step away, gave me a quick smile, and sauntered off. Wandal inclined his head to her, holding the wine towards me. “Slave. Been since she was ten. Pretty, eh?”
“What’s her name?” I asked him, took the wine and sipped it.
“Forgot to ask,” he grumbled reluctantly.
I stared at the stairway, which was busy. The household was up. A woman with curious gear was hastening upstairs, probably to prepare Julia’s hair. A man was making breakfast in a kitchen alcove under the stairs, and girls were carrying linen from further inside the house.
I stood there, weak with fatigue. “I guess we just leave?”
“The Guard’s out?” he yawned.
I nodded, and since Julia would not be coming down, we stepped out. One stayed by the door, two took places in the atrium, and we walked away. There would be men following her all day, and they’d not miss a thing. They had done this for gods only knew how long.
“Which way?” Wandal asked.
“I’m to visit Livia’s house,” I said, and looked around uncertainly. We had passed it the evening before, but now, I was lost.
The man who stood by the door pointed a finger to our left. “Some of your boys guarded Antonia last night. They’ll be there as well, the Decurion said. Best you all return to the Block together, so you will get lost at the same time.” He chuckled heartily at his own joke. “Left, then take a right, and you’ll find it.”
I hesitated, and went forward, Wandal came after me. We passed a somewhat familiar fountain squirting water, then dodged past a patrol of praetorians who gave us the evil eye, laughing something to themselves, and then, taking right, I saw Livia’s house.
Wandal gazed at me in a long, judging way. “So, how do you like the mistress? Is she the cause of all the mischief? Or just a puppet, like us?”
I looked at him disdainfully and pushed him so he nearly fell through a door. “Do you,” I sneered playfully, “truly think she’d tell me how she is trying to murder everyone in her family? You are a block head.”
He pushed me back. “I’m sorry I gave you any wine. But, isn’t that exactly the idea? That she would trust you, like she would trust her own mother?”
I shrugged. “I have a hunch she would not trust her mother.”
He shook his shoulders. “I’m not sure what Livia hopes will happen.”
I yawned. “She spoke with me. Perhaps she guessed Maroboodus is my father. It moved her. We shall see.” I went quiet, and felt uneasy about Julia. She wasn’t an open book, but she had been shocked by the news of Maroboodus.
No. She pretended. She acted.
“She is certainly a good actress,” I mumbled.
He chortled. “A lifetime of practice. Remember Gunther in our village? He had a son he kept locked with the horses when he did mischief. In the end, the boy could mimic one so well they paid him to amuse men in the feast.”
“You remember the most tedious things, Wandal,” I grumbled.
I noticed men standing in shadows by Livia’s house as we drew close. They had heard the hobnails in our caligae, and were stretching and massaging their necks as they stood up. “I hate her for Drusus, and my family,” I said, forcing myself to say the next words. “But, I think Rome is a terrible devourer of the good in people. The city is a thing of beauty and terror, and the people are like this. I think Julia has seen more of the latter than the former.”
He looked at me with suspicion. “You like her?”
“She is regal and brave,” I answered defensively. “No matter what she did, and what she is trying to do, she is respectable and high.”
He fidgeted. “Don’t get defensive. I agree. She was feeling ill after you went to bed.”
“Oh?” I asked.
“She went to get air,” he said. “She stayed in that terrace for a long time. And I think she was crying.” He looked unhappy. “I felt sorry for her. Whatever she is doing, she is terrified. And if she’d doing nothing, she is very unhappy.”
“She should be happier,” I noted. “If she were, we wouldn’t be here. But, I cannot help her. I’m to drag her down before more people die.”
We reached the domus, and fresh guards were discussing something meaningless while our friends walked to us.
“You look like shit,” Tudrus said as he approached with Bohscyld. He grinned at our disheveled condition. “We slept like babies. Antonia was staying here, so we were free to nap in her house. Brimwulf and Agetan are taking a piss. Rochus is holding their cocks. So. How—”
“I’ll tell you about it later,” I told him. “I’ll have to see Cassia, and then we’ll go back and sleep.”
“Hurry, we want to eat something,” Rochus said, as he appeared with Agetan.
“Tell my wife to come and see me,” Brimwulf yelled after me.
I went inside, while my friends waited outside. A thin faced, older woman shuffled to greet me, passing a man of the fourth turma. I bowed to her. “A woman named Cassia. I seek her.”
Her eyes brightened. “One of the pregnant ones?” She turned before I could answer, and I entered the calmly opulent atrium of Livia. It was strangely humble. There was art painted on the wall, like there were in most noble houses I had seen. The artist was probably the same as the one who had painted Julia’s house. The walls were rich with pictures of woods, green and deep, but also of ethereal mountains. The servant appeared, beckoning for me to follow her. I rushed after her, yearning for Cassia. The night with Julia had left me with doubts about my ability to perform the dark duties Livia and Tiberius had asked of me. Cassia was wise. She always had an answer. She’d relieve my confusion; I was sure of it.
I frowned.
And I also wanted to chew her up for leaving with Livia.
I was guided through a very unusual set of corridors. The house was not built like most dōme, and had far more sprawling and chaotic set of rooms. We were passing sleeping alcoves, a large kitchen, and then we finally came into a garden.
There stood Livia. Not Cassia, but Livia.
I frowned. Our last meeting had not gone well. Had she forgiven me? Was I not performing the duty she gave me?
She was regally dressed in a stola, her face wrinkled by the bright morning Sunna, as she was pruning a tree, where some sort of fruit grew.
She turned to look at me and lifted one from a plate. “A fig” she explained. I still didn’t see Cassia. She noticed my eager looks, and probably saw how tired I was. “She is around. She is getting her hair done. Wait. Sit, eat.”
Hair done? I thought, bewildered, and sat down on a shaded bench before a round table. There was food set in heaps on silver platters.
I cursed inside my head, and surrendered to the need to be patient. I would eat, though I had hoped to do so with Cassia. There was the usual wheat bread, focaccia, sweet honey, strong, undilut
ed wine, many kinds of fruits cut in pieces, and I succumbed to my terrible hunger. I set my shield and spear aside, picked off my helmet. I reached out and set them leaning on a pillar hung with violet flowers. I devoured the bread, while casting long looks at the lady.
She smiled at my scrutiny. “My husband loves this garden,” she said. “But, today, he has to sit with the Senate in the library, and is tied with their many needs all morning. They are devising a million ways to honor my Drusus, and my patient husband denies them, for the most part.” She nodded gratefully at me. “I never had the chance to thank you for saving Antonia’s life. And the children’s. I’m happy you changed your mind and stayed.”
“Think nothing of it, my lady. You were taking my wife to Rome at the time of the attack, so I understand.”
She chuckled. “I admit I did cheat, though I was really feeling ill.”
I gave her a ghost of a smile. “I hope my wife could help you when you felt ill, my lady.” My voice cracked with suspicion.
She smiled, her eyes twinkling. “Yes. She is most skillful. And gracious. Of course, it was just the heat, but she did a superb job in supporting me. She is a most welcome guest. I have given her a slave, or a servant, as she prefers to call her.” She went on in a smaller voice. “And how was your first night duty?”
I grunted and shrugged uncomfortably. “Not sure how useful I will be there.”
“Really? Did she reject you?” she asked me with worry. “It is possible she would. Maroboodus did break her heart, didn’t he?”
“If Antius finds out I’m near Julia, they will cut my throat. Besides, she seems to know a lot. She probably has spies of her own,” I said unhappily.
“She likely does,” she answered. “But, I know she was asking about you in the funeral yesterday. And about Cassia.”
I sighed. “There is no sense in this duty. They know about me. I’m not sure if you know, but Antius was rescued by the Guard. And Kleitos had men try to kill me. They are upset, and know I’m a danger to their plans, even if I am a pitiful danger, like a child pretending to be an adult.”